SEYMOUR  DURST 


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THE 

SECOND  MARRIA&E; 

OB, 

A  DAUGHTER'S  TRIALS. 

|i  gcmestit  S^ale  of  gark. 

BT 

CHARLES  BURDETT, 

ACTHOB  OP  "  THE  CONVICT'S  CHILD,"  "  THE  GAMBLER,"  "  LILLA  HAST," 
"  THE  ELLIOTT  FAMILY,"  "  NEVER  TOO  LATE,"  ETC. 


NEW  YORK: 
CHARLES  SCRTBNER,  3Y7  &  379  BROADWAY, 

JIDOCOLA"-!. 


! 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1856,  bv 
CHARI.  ES  SCRIBNER, 
In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Southern  District  of  N'ew  York. 


INSON,  STEKKOTVPHR.  GKO.   RUSSELL  ii  CO.,  FJUNfEliS. 


THE  HON.  JACOB  A.  WESTERVELT, 


LATE  MAYOR  OF  THE  CITY  OP  NEW  YORK, 


AS  A  FEEBLE  TESTIMONIAL  OP  THE  HIGH  ESTEEM  AND  PROFOUND  REGARD 


OF  HIS  GRATEFUL  AND  ATTACHED  FRIEND, 


THE  AUTHOR. 


PEEF  ACE. 


The  Publisher  has  encouraged  me  to  beheve,  that  although 
six  years  have  elapsed  since  I  appeared  before  the  pubhc  as 
a  candidate  for  its  favor,  I  have  not  been  forgotten,  and 
hoping  that  his  judgment  may  prove  correct,  I  venture  to 
send  this  volume  forth,  trusting  it  may  be  received  with  the 
kindness  which  was  accorded  to  my  previous  efforts. 

The  story  here  presented,  was  narrated  to  me  many  years 
ago  by  a  physician  well  known  in  this  city,  and  if  I  were  at 
liberty  to  mention  his  name,  no  doubts  would  be  entertained 
as  to  its  entire  truthfulness. 

I  "  tell  the  tale  as  'twas  told  to  me,"  and  if  it  shall  serve 
to  amuse  or  interest,  the  object  for  which  it  was  written  will 
have  been  attained. 

I  have  used  the  "  first  person "  throughout,  as  most 
appropriate  to  the  narrative,  and  as  best  enabling  me  to 
preserve  the  unity  and  correctness  of  a  tale,  relating,  as 
it  professes,  occurences  which  transpired  in  this  city,  and 
which  will  be  recognised  as  strictly  true  by  many,  who  were 
at  the  time  familiar  with  them. 

Charles  Burdett. 


OOIS^TENTS. 


CHAPTER.  PAQK 

I.  The  Orphan   9 

II.  The  Omnibus    17 

III.  A  New  Friend   28 

IV.  The  Second  Wife   35 

T.  The  Step  Mother's  Story    47 

VI.  Father  and  Daughter   59 

vn.  The  Daughter's  Story  .73 

viii.  The  Daughter's  Story  Continued   92 

IX.  The  Orphan's  Adventure   100 

X.  A  Gentleman's  Revenge   112 

XI.  Husband  and  Wife   119 

XII.  A  Discovery   134 

xiir.  Mr.  Barton's  Adventure   143 

XIV.  Plot  and  Counterplot   152 

XV.  Another  Discovery   162 

XVI.  Father  and  Daughter   174 

XVII.  Home  Again   183 

XVIII.  Brother  and  Sister   192 

XIX.  More  Good  Luck   201 

XX.  Home  Again   216 

XXI.  Drawing  to  a  Close   280 

Conclusion   287 


THE 


SECOND  MARRIAGE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE  ORPHAN. 

In  a  neatly  but  poorly  furnished  room,  on  the 
second  floor  of  a  two-story  house,  in  the  upper  part 
of  Forsyth  street,  a  woman  was  lying  in  the  last 
stages  of  consumption.  Her  features  had  wasted 
away  until  there  was  scarce  a  semblance  of  human- 
ity left  upon  them.  Her  glassy  eyes  were  deep-set 
in  their  honj  sockets,  but  they  gleamed  occasionally 
with  a  fitful  fire,  partly  caused  by  pain,  the  attend- 
ant of  approaching  dissolution,  partly  by  some  high 
excitement  over  which  she  has  been  unable  to  main- 
tain entire  control. 

Kneeling  by  her  bedside,  her  face  buried  in  the 
clothes  which  were  moist  with  her  tears,  her  fair 


10         The   Second  Marriage. 

hair  hanging  in  dishevelled  masses  about  her  neck 
and  shoulders,  her  hands  tightly  clasped,  and  sob- 
bing as  if  her  heart  would  burst  with  the  deep  grief 
which  must  find  some  vent,  was  JuUa  Seaton,  her 
only  daughter,  soon  to  become  an  oq3han. 

She  was  a  poor  girl,  the  only  daughter  of  a  poor 
mother — the  cherished  child  of  a  Christian  parent, 
who  had  never  in  a  hfe  of  eighteen  years  caused 
that  parent  a  moment  of  pain,  or  an  instant  of  un- 
happiness. 

"  Juha,  dear,"  said  the  mother,  in  broken  accents, 
for  her  strength  was  rapidly  passing  away,  and  lier 
breath  was  failing,  ''Julia,  dear,  trust  in  God,  and 
be  virtuous.  Kemember  what  your  mother  has  striven 
to  instill  into  your  young  heart— you  will  soon  have 
no  protector  or  friend  but  Him  ;  trust  in  Him,  and 
lead  a  virtuous  life  ;  your  reward  will  be  certain." 

"God  bless  you,  my  daughter,"  she  continued, 
slowly  and  with  difficulty,  each  word  costing,  evidently, 
a  terrible  effort  from  the  dying  woman,  and  laying 
her  thin  attenuated  hand  upon  the  fair  head  of  the 
weeping  sorrowing  girl. 

They  were  her  last  words,  and  with  this  prayer 
upon  her  lips,  the  mother's  spirit  took  its  flight  from 
earth  for  ever,  and  Juha  Seaton  was  an  orphan. 

Mrs.  Seaton  was  the  widow  of  a  ship  carpenter. 


The  Orphan. 


11 


who  after  a  life  of  toil  and  struggles  in  the  vain  en- 
cleavor  to  place  his  family  above  want,  had  met  with 
a  sudden  and  accidental  death,  leaving  them  entirely 
unprovided  for.  He  had  managed  to  keep  them  to- 
gether in  tolerable  comfort  during  his  life-time,  and 
had  educated  his  children,  George  and  Julia,  with  a 
view  to  their  future  usefulness  to  themselves  and 
others  so  far  as  his  means  would  allow. 

George  had  early  imbibed  a  passion  for  the  sea, 
which  his  father  thought  it  best  to  indulge,  and  he 
was  accordingly  apprenticed  to  a  well  known  and 
estimable  captain  sailing  out  of  New-York,  who 
promised  the  father  that  if  there  was  any  thing  in  the 
boy,  he  would  bring  it  out  and  make  a  man  of  him. 

At  the  time  of  his  father's  death,  George  was 
nearly  twenty  years  of  age,  a  ruddy,  hearty  young 
giant,  who  had  made  three  voyages  around  "  the 
Horn,"  and  whose  passion  for  the  sea  was  in  no  wise 
abated  by  the  hard  rubs  and  harder  fare  he  had  en- 
dured during  his  brief  experience  as  a  foremast-hand. 

A  few  weeks  after  that  sad  event,  he  sailed  on  his 
fourth  voyage  as  second  mate,  and  was  absent  at  the 
time  his  remaining  parent  died,  so  that  Julia  was,  in 
the  most  terrible  meaning  of  the  word,  alone.  She 
had  no  friends — the  poor  have  few — and  her  pros- 
pects were  dismal  mdeed. 


12         The   Second  Marriage. 
But  let  me  not  anticipate. 

After  Mr.  Seaton's  death,  the  mother  and  daughter 
had  managed  to  eke  out  a  subsistence  by  their  needles 
until  Mrs.  Seaton  fell  sick,  and  then  the  burthen  fell 
upon  the  devoted  and  self-sacrificing  daughter,  who 
toiled  wearily  but  cheerfully,  until  the  lamp  of  that 
life  which  was  dearer  than  her  own,  went  out  and  left 
her  in  a  dreary,  cheerless,  hopeless  darkness.  Then 
her  spirits  sank  within  her,  and  despair  took  the 
place  of  hope. 

The  last  words  Mrs.  Seaton  uttered  showed  that 
she  had  been  a  Christian  woman,  and  must  pre-sup- 
pose  that  her  daughter  Julia  was  , brought  up  as  a 
Christian  mother  would  wish  to  bring  up  a  child. 

She  had  be^n  not  a  canting,  but  a  trusting  Chris- 
tian— not  a  loud-mouthed  professor,  but  a  firm  believer 
in  those  truths  which  have  moved  the  world  for  near- 
ly two  thousand  years  ;  and  she  felt,  that  without 
belonging  to  any  sect  or  acknowledging  any  creed, 
she  had  placed  her  trust  on  a  sure  foundation. 

But  Julia  Seaton  was  now  an  orphan. 

She  could  scarcely — she  would  not  bring  herself 
to  realize  that  the  hps  which  had  never  been  opened 
to  her  save  to  utter  words  of  love  and  kindness,  were 
closed  for  ever.  She  would  not  beheve  that  the 
eyes  which  had  only  beamed  upon  her  in  love,  were 


The  Orphan. 


13 


sealed  in  death — that  the  hand  which  had  so  often 
been  laid  upon  her  head,  invoking  the  blessings  and 
protection  of  Heaven,  would  never  again  be  raised 
in  life. 

But  the  reality  came  to  her  with  all  its  terrible 
truth. 

"  Come,  Miss  Julia,  there's  no  use  in  grieving. 
You  know  we've  all  got  to  die  once,  and  your  mother 
was  fitter  to  die  than  any  of  us — so  don't  take  on  so 
any  more" — and  the  speaker  essayed  with  gentle 
violence  to  raise  Juha  from  the  bed  where  she  had 
thrown  herself  beside  the  lifeless  form  of  her  mo- 
ther. 

There  was,  indeed,  no  use  in  grieving  ;  but  the 
overcharged  heart  of  the  bereaved  girl  refused  to 
acknowledge  it. 

"  Come,  Julia — come  into  our  room,  and  we'll  see 
to  every  thing  here.  You  can't  do  any  good,  and  it 
only  worries  you." 

"  Oh,  I  can't  leave  my  mother — I  can't  leave 
her." 

Yes,  but  JuHa,  she  has  left  you,  and  you  can't 
go  with  her  ;  bo  come  with  us  ;"  and  with  kind  but 
gentle  firmness  the  warm-hearted  speaker  dragged 
the  weeping  daughter  from  the  room,  and  left  her  to 
tears  and  solitude,  while  herself  and  two  other  in- 


14 


The   Second  Marriage. 


mates  of  tlic  house  performed  the  last  offices  for  the 
inanimate  form  of  the  widow. 

The  funeral  took  place  the  next  day.  The  mourn- 
ers were  few  but  sincere  ;  for  Helen  Seaton  was  a 
woman  whose  worth  could  not  fail  to  be  appreciated 
where  known. 

And  Julia  was  now  alone  in  the  world— a  world 
of  trials,  sorrows,  and  temptations— a  world  of 
struggles  and  conflicts. 

I  was  a  witness  to  the  scene  which  I  have  just 
narrated,  and  have  told  it  as  I  saw  it.  It  was  one 
of  those  episodes  in  the  life  of  a  physician  almost  of 
daily  occurrence,  and  which  justify  the  members  of 
that  profession  above  all  others  in  asserting  that  one 
half  of  the  world  docs  not  know  how  the  other  half 
lives, 

I  found  I  could  do  nothing  more  either  in  the  way 
of  aid  or  sympathy,  and  took  my  leave  with  a  sor- 
rowful heart  ;  for  I  could  not  but  feel  deeply  inter- 
ested in  the  unhappy  girl  thus  thrown  upon  the  cold 
charity  of  a  heartless  and  selfish  world. 

Such  scenes  were,  however,  of  frequent  occurrence 
wit]i  me  ;  for  lacing  comparatively  a  young  physician, 
I  had,  of  course,  numerous  poor  calls,  as  they  are  cal- 
lously termed  by  some  ;  and  at  this  hour,  with  the 
sun  of  prosperity  shedding  his  benign  beams  upon  me, 


The  Orphan 


15 


I  can  say  with  pride  aud  pleasure,  that  no  one  ever 
went  unheeded  by  me,  and  that  I  never  hesitated 
to  inquire  whether  I  should  be  remunerated  or 
not. 

As  I  left  the  house,  saddened  by  the  scene  which  I 
had  just  witnessed,  and  in  which  I  had  participated, 
and  half  lost  in  thoughts  of  the  orphaned  girl  whom  I 
had  just  left  to  her  sorrows  and  her  solitude,  I  be- 
thought me  of  another  patient  whom  I  had  not  seen 
for  two  days,  and  whose  case,  though  desperate,  did 
not  requh'e  unremitted  attention. 

Buttoning  up  my  coat  tightly,  for  it  was  a  raw  March 
day,  I  started  to  pay  my  visit,  which  I  felt  had  been 
loug  delayed,  and  had  not  proceeded  half-a-dozen 
blocks,  when  a  sharp  cutting  rain  set  in  ;  to  avoid 
which,  I  beckoned  to  an  omnibus,  aud  I  was  soon 
safely,  though  temporarily  housed  from  the  storm 
which  I  saw  was  brewing. 

I  was  the  twelfth  passenger,  and  right  glad  was  I 
to  escape  the  pelting  of  the  storm,  which  increased 
with  such  fearful  rapidity,  that  before  the  stage  had 
proceeded  half-a-dozen  blocks  the  rain  was  coming 
down  in  torrents,  and  the  wmd  was  howling  with 
angry  violence. 

Squeezing  myself  into  the  smallest  possible  com- 
pass, and  setthng  back  into  my  seat,  I  buried  my 


16 


The   Second  Marriage. 


face  deep  in  the  collar  of  my  coat  and  was  soon  en- 
grossed in  thoughts  of  the  poor  girl  I  had  just  left, 
and  wondering  what  would  be  her  future  lot. 

The  sudden  stoppage  of  the  omnibus  aroused  me, 
and  hastily  looking  up  to  see  who  was  so  unfortunate 
as  to  be  compelled  to  get  out  in  such  a  i^itiless  storm, 
I  perceived  the  face  of  a  young  female  who  was 
standmg  on  the  step  and  peering  anxiously  into  the 
stage. 


CHAPTER  II. 


THE  OMNIBUS. 

The  stage  was  stopped,  and  the  young  woman 
stood  upon  the  steps  anxiously  looking  in,  and  seem- 
ingly saying  by  her  very  looks,  "I  hope  there  is 
room." 

"  ^0  room,  driver,  all  full,"  was  shouted  in  a  sten- 
torian voice  by  a  large,  gruff-looking  man,  wrapped 
to  the  eyes  in  a  heavy  cloak,  and  who  was  seated  in 
the  farthest  corner  of  the  stage.  "All  full — twelve 
inside  now — go  on." 

"  Yes,  there  is  room,"  I  said,  as  I  saw  the  female 
in  the  act  of  getting  from  the  step,  with  a  look  of 
disappointment  which  spoke  volumes  to  my  feelings. 

''There  is  room  here,  madam;"  and  springing 
from  my  seat,  which  was  nearest  the  door,  I  pushed 
it  open,  and  beckoned  her  to  come  in,  at  the  same 
time  extending  my  hand  to  aid  her. 

"  Never  mind,  don't  make  any  excuses,"  I  added, 
hastily,  seeing  that  she  was  about  to  withdraw  ;  and 
as  I  spoke  I  cast  a  look  at  the  voice  in  the  farthest 


18 


The  Second  Marriage. 


corner,  which  ought  to  have  annihilated  its  own- 
er—  at  least  I  thought  so  then — but  I  have 
grown  wiser  smce,  and  am  very  glad  now  that  it  did 
not. 

"Here,  madam,  take  my  place/'  and  I  fairly 
pulled  her  in — for  she  half  resisted  my  attempts — 
seating  her  in  the  place  which  I  had  first  vacated, 
evidently  to  the  annoyance  of  my  neighbor,  who  cast 
contemptuous  looks  at  both  of  us,  and  drew  himself 
up  into  the  smallest  compass,  as  if  fearing  contami- 
nation by  contact  wdth  such  a  forlorn  bemg. 

Seating  herself,"  or  rather  crowding  herself  on  the 
edge  of  the  seat,  for  no  one  offered  to  make  any 
room  for  her,  except  the  one  I  have  mentioned,  she 
said  to  me,  with  an  air  and  tone  far  above  her  ap- 
pearance, ''I  thank  you  very  kindly,  sir,  and  am 
really  sorry  to  incommode  you." 

''Not  at  all,  not  at  all,  I  can  do  very  well 
standing  up  and  to  prove  it,  I  seized  hold  of  the 
door  to  prevent  my  falling  into  her  lap,  an  occurrence 
which  had  nearly  happened  by  a  sudden  jerk  of  the 
stage. 

There  was  something  in  the  air  and  manner  of  the 
young  woman  so  far  superior  to  her  personal  appear- 
ance, I  could  not  but  notice  the  contrast ;  and  as  I 
was  compelled  to  stand  opposite  to  her,  I  had  a  good 


The  Omnibus. 


19 


opportunity  of  examining  her  without  the  danger  of 
being  deemed  impertinent. 

She  was  young — ^perhaps  she  had  seen  two  or 
three  and  twenty  summers — and  the  passing  ghmpses 
which  I  had  of  her  face,  showed  expressive  and 
regular  featm'es — not  that  she  had  any  claims  to 
beauty,  but  there  was  an  indescribable  air  about  her 
which  excited  interest,  and  commanded  respect. 

There  was  an  expression  of  sadness,  too,  which 
could  not  be  mistaken,  and  which  poverty  alone  could 
not  and  does  not  fix,  and  that  interested  me — and 
she  was  evidently  in  feeble  health — that  my  pro- 
fessional experience  enabled  me  to  d«tect — and  that 
too  interested  me. 

I  have  said  that  it  was  a  cold,  raw,  wet,  disagree- 
able March  day,  and  I  was  well  protected  against 
the  inclemency  of  the  weather,  while  my  vis-a-vis 
was  clad  in  a  coarse  mourning  dress  of  calico,  and 
her  only  protection  from  the  cold  and  storm  was  a 
small,  faded,  black  worsted  shawl,  which  she  had 
drawn  closely  around  her,  and  which  1  saw  from  an 
occasional  shiver  which  passed  through  her,  was  in- 
sufficient to  keep  either  the  warmth  within,  or  the 
cold  from  without. 

I  found  ample  occupation  in  studying  the  interest- 
ing woman  whom  I  had  been  enabled  to  oblige,  to 


20        The   Second  Marriage. 

keep  my  mind  busy,  and  was  lost  in  thoughts  of  her, 
for  I  am  somewhat  addicted  to  giving  play  to  my 
imagination,  when  she  arose  and  pulled  the  strap  for 
the  driver  to  stop. 

It  was  at  the  corner  of  Bleecker  and  Christopher 
streets  ;  and  as  she  handed  her  fare  to  me  to  pass  to 
the  driver,  with  a  renewed  expression  of  thanks  for 
my  kindness,  I  was  determined  that  I  would  not 
so  soon  lose  sight  of  one  who  had  excited  such  an 
interest  in  me,  and  who,  as  I,  with  the  impulsiveness 
of  my  nature,  had  already  made  up  my  mind,  was 
evidently  fitted  for  some  better  sphere  than  that  of 
the  poverty  and  suffering  which  were  evidently 
allotted  to  her. 

"I  should  not  have  been  so  anxious  to  reach 
home,"  she  said,  with  a  sad  smile,  as  she  held  her 
hand  waiting  for  the  change,  ''but  that  I  have  a 
sick  child,  and  he  needs  my  constant  care.  Your 
kindness  is  therefore  the  more  grateful." 

In  an  instant  my  hand  was  in  my  pocket,  my  own 
fare  passed  up,  and  jumping  out,  I  assisted  her  to 
alight,  amid  the  ill-concealed  smiles  and  sneers  of  the 
eleven  who  were  left  inside. 

As  we  reached  the  side-walk,  she  turned  towards 
me  as  if  to  bid  me  adieu  ;  but  I  prevented  that  by 
accosting  her — ''  Madam,  you  must  excuse  a  stran- 


The  Omnibus. 


21 


ger,  but  I  heard  you  say  you  had  a  sick  child  at 
home  ;  possibly  I  may  render  some  assistance." 

For  a  few  moments  she  hesitated  how  to  reply. 
The  rich  color  came  to  her  cheek,  her  brow,  her  tem- 
ples, and  gazing*  at  me  for  an  instant  with  her  large 
calm  blue  eyes,  she  seemed  in  that  look  to  have  made 
up  her  mind,  and  fortunately  I  was  neither  young 
nor  handsome  enough  to  be  the  object  of  suspicion. 

"  You  are  right,  sir  ;  I  have  a  sick  child  at  home," 
she  said,  with  perfect  self-possession,  and  still  fascinat- 
ing me  with  those  large  deep  blue  eyes,  which  seemed 
to  read  my.  very  soul ;  "  but  how  can  that  interest 
you,  a  stranger  ?" 

"Pardon  me,  madam,  but  really  I  cannot  say  why 
or  how  I  have  ventured  to  accost  you  at  all,  and 
yet  something  has  seemed  to  say  to  me,  though  I 
never  saw  you  before,  that  you  beheve  I  am  prompted 
by  no  improper  motive  ;"  and  I  gave  her  look  for 
look,  for  I  was,  and  felt  honest :  "  friendly  aid,  though 
coming  from  an  utter  stranger,  may  perhaps  not  be 
unacceptable." 

"  You  are  correct,  sir  ;  I  do  believe  you  honest, 
and  God  knows  I  need"  friendly  aid  ;  will  you  venture 
into  the  abode  of  sickness  and  poverty  ?" 

"My  profession  carries  me  there  almost  every 
hour  in  the  day." 


22         The  Second  Marriage. 

Are  you  a  physician  ?"  she  inquired,  her  counten- 
ance beaming  with  an  expression  in  which  hope,  joy, 
and  fear  were  strangely  blended,  and  her  eyes  moist- 
ened with  tears  as  she  possibly  thought  of  the  Httle 
one  at  home. 

"  I  am,  madam,  and  entirely  at  your  service."  « 
"  Oh,  sir,  I  am  so  thankful.    My  poor  Clarence 
has  been  so  sick,  and  I  have  not  dared  to  send  for  a 
physician  yet." 

And  why  not,  pray,"  I  said,  anxious  to  put  her 
at  her  ease,  and  draw  her  from  the  possible  idea  that 
I  had  any  improper  motive  in  my  conduct. 

"  How  could  I,  sir,  when  I  have  not  the  means 
to  " 

Stop,  madam  ;  you  have  wronged  the  profession 
by  your  implied  suspicion  ;  I  know  of  no  one  who 
would  hesitate  for  an  instant  to  respond  to  the  cry 
of  sickness,  though  it  did  come  from  the  abode  of 
poverty,  vice,  or  wretchedness  ;  I  am  sorry  you  have 
been  so  unjust." 

Pardon  me,  sir,  I  meant  for  the  best.  But  I  am 
so  "thankful  that  you  are  a  physician  ;  you  have  no 
idea  how  great  a  relief  it  is  to  me.  But  here  we  are  ; 
enter,  if  you  please,  sir,  and  behold  poverty  and 
wretchedness." 

It  is  because  I  saw  poverty  and  feared  wretch- 


The  Omnibus. 


23 


edness  that  I  ventured  to  address  you.  But  corae, 
we  must  not  talk  so  formally  ;  what  is  the  matter 
with  your  boy  ?" 

"  You  shall  see,  sir.  Come  in  and  she  led  me 
into  the  back  room  on  the  second  floor  of  a  two-story 
house  near  Greenwich  Lane,  as  it  was  then  called, 
though  now  dignified  by  the  high-sounding  appella- 
tion of  ''Avenue." 

A  small  cast-iron  stove  sufficed  to  keep  the  un- 
carpeted  apartment  in  comfortable  warmth,  near 
which  was  seated  a  hard-featured,  but  honest,  kind- 
looking  woman,  who  arose  as  we  entered.  On  a  pil- 
low, placed  across  two  chairs,  lay  the  sick  child,  the 
mother's  treasure,  a  fine  hearty-looking  fellow,  who ' 
had  seen  some  eighteen  or  twenty  months.  Hastily 
throwing  off  her  shawl,  the  anxious  mother  ap- 
proached the  sleeping  boy,  and  in  whispered  tones 
said,  "  Has  he  been  asleep  ever  since,  Maggie  ?"  and 
bending  over  his  humble  couch,  she  kissed  his  fair 
forehead  gently. 

"  Ever  since,  ma'am  ;  I  don't  think  he  has  stirred 
once't :  I  guess  he  am't  so  very  bad.  But  I  must  go, 
now;  I've  a  monstrous  ironing  yet  to  do  'afore  night." 

"  God  bless,  you  Maggie,  I  won't  forget  this  kind- 
ness," said  the  young  mother,  as  the  tear  started  to 
her  eyes  ;  and  as  the  honest  Maggie  left  the  room, 


24        The   Second  Marriage, 

slie  turned  to  me  aud  said,  "  Here,  sir,  you  can  see 
sickness  and  poverty  ;  God  grant  you  may  never  re- 
alize them,  for  I  am  sure  you  have  a  good  heart." 

Come,  come,  never  mind  that,  let  me  look  at  the 
child,"  I  said,  approaching  the  sleeper  ;  and  as  I  said 
so,  he  opened  wide  a  pair  of  large  blue  eyes,  which 
were  fixed  intently  on  me  for  an  instant  in  wonder 
and  surprise,  and  turning  to  his  mother,  his  counten- 
ance lighted  up  as  he  stretched  forth  his  chubby 
arms  for  her  embrace. 

Taking  the  child's  hand,  I  examined  him  carefully 
for  a  few  moments,  aud  looking  at  the  mother  who 
was  watching  my  every  movement  with  the  most 
anxious  solicitude,  I  said,  ''My  dear  madam,  you  are 
unnecessarily  alarmed  ;  this  httle  fellow  has  nothing 
but  a  heavy  cold  ;  we  will  soon  drive  that  away  there 
is  no  earthly  cause  for  apprehension."  The  expression 
of  gratitude  and  thankfulness  which  crossed  the  young 
mother's  face  as  I  spoke,  was  a  rich  reward  for  my 
poor  services  ;  and  as  I  saw  the  tear  of  happiness 
steal  unbidden  to  her  eye,  I  thought  I  had  never  seen 
a  woman  for  whom  I  could  feel  so  deep  an  inter- 
est. 

"  He  only  wants  a  little  care,  a  few  nice  things, 
and  all  will  soon  be  well ;  and,"  I  added,  seeing  the 
expression  which  the  words  nice  things  had  brought 


The  Omnibus. 


25 


to  her  face,  "  I  must  take  upon  myself  the  charge 
of  those.  You  must  permit  me  to  ofler  this,"  and  I 
tendered  some  money,  without  which  I  knew  nice 
things  could  not  be  procured,  and  of  which  there 
was  every  indication  that  she  stood  sadly  in  need. 

Her  first  motion  was  to  stretch  forth  her  hand 
instinctively  to  receive  the  proffered  money.  The  next 
was  to  draw  back,  and  coloring  deeply,  she  said, 
"This,  sir,  to  a  stranger.  How  can  I?  how  dare 
I  ?"  and  she  cast  a  look  upon  her  child,  which  seem- 
ed to  say,  "  For  him,  I  could  do  or  dare  any  thing." 

"Pray,  madam,  if  you  believe  me  honorable  or 
honest,  make  no  excuses.  I  know  you  need  it,  and 
I  do  assure  you  I  shall  derive  a- thousand  times  more 
pleasure  in  being  allowed  to  relieve  your  necessities, 
than  you  can  in  receiving  it.  Take  it,  madam — for 
your  child's  sake,"  I  added,  seeing  that  she  still 
hesitated. 

Taking  the  money  with  a  trembling  hand,  she 
glanced  hastily  at  the  amount,  and  sinking  into  a 
chair,  with  her  child  closely  clasped  to  her  heart, 
she  gave  way  to  a  burst  of  tears,  which  I  made 
no  attempt  to  check,  for  in  truth  I  felt  very  much 
like  joining  her,  though  without  exactly  knowing 
why. 

"  Oh,  sir,  how  can  1  be  sufficiently  thankful  ?  But 
2 


26 


The  Second  Marriage. 


for  this  we  should  have  been  turned  into  the  street 
this  very  day." 

"  You  cannot  mean  that  ?  You  surely  cannot 
mean  that  any  thing  wearing  the  shape  of  humanity, 
could  have  put  you  and  that  sick  child  into  the  street 
in  such  weather,  and  for  such  a  paltry  sum  as  that  ?" 

"Indeed  I  do.  But  for  this  Heaven-sent  aid,  we 
must  have  been  houseless  and  homeless,  as  we  are 
friendless." 

I  was  too  much  incensed  to  make  any  reply  to 
this  remark,  for  much  as  I  had  heard  and  read  of 
%  hard-hearted  landlords,  I  did  not  think  such  a  thing 
could  be  ;  so  having  nothing  to  say,  I  said  nothing, 
but  after  musing  a  few  moments,  I  pulled  out  my 
tablet,  and  writing  a  prescription,  handed  it  to  her, 
with  the  necessary  directions.  "  And  now,  madam, 
by  your  leave,  I  will  go,  and  return  again  to-mor- 
row." 

Not,  sir,  until  I  tell  you  that  my  visit  down  town 
to-day,  when  Providence  sent  you  to  my  assistance, 
was  to  obtain  the  amount  due  me  for  work  done  for 
a  store  in  Pine  street,  and  which,  if  paid,  would 

have — " 

"  Deprived  me  of  the  pleasure  of  aiding  you. 
Pray  say  no  more — I  understand  it  all.  Take  good 
care  of  the  boy    Ah,  by  the  way,  what  did  you  say 


The  Omnibus. 


was  his  name  ?"  I  suddenly  asked,  intending  thus  indi- 
rectly to  ascertain  the  name  of  my  incognita. 

"  Clarence  Marvin,  sir,"  she  replied,  comprehend- 
ing in  an  instant  my  poorly-concealed  manreuvre  ; 
and  feeling  that  I  had  no  right  to  intrude  further,  I 
handed  my  card  to  her,  merely  saying,  that  in  case 
my  services  should  be  required  before  the  next  day, 
she  would  find  me  entirely  at  her  service. 

She  commenced  pouring  out  renewed  expressions 
of  thankfulness  and  gratitude  ;  but  as  I  found  my 
eyes  were  growing  dim,  I  hurried  off  without  giving 
any  time  to  finish  her  sentence,  not  even  daring  to 
trust  myself  to  a  farewell  look — and  in  a  few  minutes 
I  was  in  my  own  office,  with  my  feet  on  the  mantel- 
piece, and  a  cigar  in  my  mouth,  pondering  over  the 
singular  events  of  the  day,  and  wondering  what 
fruits  they  would  bring  forth. 


CHAPTER  III. 


A  NEW  FRIEND. 

"  You  have  kept  those  vests  a  long  time,  Miss 
Seaton,"  was  the  stern  salutation  of  Mr.  Edwards,  the 
manufacturer  from  whom  she  received  employment  at 
the  magnificent  remuneration  of  eighteen  cents  a-piece 
for  vests,  "  we  can't  allow  this  at  all — it  will  never 
do." 

"  My  mother  is  dead,  sir,"  was  all  Juha  could  say, 
as  the  hot  scaldmg  tears  forced  themselves  to  her 
eyes,  and  found  their  way  down  her  cheeks. 

«  Oh — ah — hum.  Well,  I'm  very  sorry,"  he  said, 
carelessly  glancing  at  her  coarse  black  dress  and  veil, 
the  only  outward  emblems  of  mourning  which  poverty 
permitted  her  to  display,  and  he  carelessly  tossed 
over  the  garments  she  had  brought,  checked  them  in 
her  little  pass-book,  threw  out  another  bundle  which 
he  entered  as  carelessly,  and  turned  away  to  resume  a 
book  he  had  been  reading,  without  uttering  another 
word  or  vouchsafing  a  look. 

Please,  sir,"  said  Julia,  timidly  approaching  the 


A  New  Friend. 


29 


p^reat  man,  "could  you  let  me  have  the  money  now, 
I  have  to  pay  some  expenses  for  the  funeral." 

It's  against  our  rules.  Miss  Seaton,  to  pay  out 
of  the  regular  times,"  he  rephed,  half  angry  that  she 
should  dare  to  disturb  him  by  such  an  application, 
"  it's  entirely  against  our  rules,  and  if  we  break  them 
once  " 

But,  sir,  I'll  never  ask  again.  I  want  it  very 
much,  Mr.  Edwards.  I  must  pay  the  expenses  of 
my  dear  mother's  funeral." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  you  must  have  it.  Mr.  Far- 
mer," he  said,  without  rising,  to  his  clerk  who  was 
near,  "give  this  girl  the  amount  due  her  on  the  book 
up  to  this  date  ;"  and  he  resumed  his  book,  with  a 
muttered  growl  at  her  importunity, 

Mr.  Farmer,  the  gaily-dressed,  highly-perfumed, 
and  heartless  clerk,  arose  lazily  from  his  seat,  and 
taking  Julia's  book  without  a  word,  added  up  the 
trifling  amounts  due  to  her,  and  going  to  a  drawer  in 
the  desk,  counted  out  the  money  she  had  so  hardly 
earned,  which  he  threw  down  before  her,  without 
condescending  to  give  a  look  at  the  trembhng, 
shrinking,  suffering  girl. 

Silently  and  with  brimming  eyes  she  took  it  up, 
placed  it  in  her  well-worn  glove,  and  slowly  left  the 
store. 


30 


The  Second  Marriage. 


Julia  Seaton's  trials  had  now  commenced.  She 
was  indeed  alone  in  the  world.  The  kind-hearted 
neighbors  who  had  helped  to  lay  out  and  bury 
her  mother,  were  as  poor  as  herself,  and  as  they 
could  not  Afford  to  spend  the  time  it  would  re- 
quire for  sympathy  with  the  bereaved  and  lonely 
girl,  she  was  thus  left  to  solitude  and  her  own  sad 
thoughts. 

Juha  lived  in  a  small  two-story  house  in  Forsyth 
street,  which  as  I  have  said,  was  occupied  by  several 
other  famihes,  whose  poverty  compelled  them  to  be 
contented  with  the  wretched  apartments  of  the  house. 
The  occupant  of  the  room  next  to  her  own  was  a 
young  woman  named  Lee,  who  had  often  attracted 
the  attention  of  Julia  by  the  sadness  of  her  manner, 
and  the  melancholy  smile  with  which  she  received 
and  returned  her  salutations  whenever  they  occasion- 
ally met  on  the  stairs. 

Helen  Lee,  was  a  seamstress  also,  who  had  occu- 
pied the  back  room  some  three  or  four  months,  and 
there  was  a  something  about  her  which,  while  it 
caused  Julia  to  wish  for  her  acquaintance,  made  her 
afraid — if  that  is  a  proper  word — to  seek  it.  She 
worked  in  her  lonely  room  from  morning  'till  night. 
She  never  received  any  friends  nor  yet  company  of 
any  kind,  and,  indeed,  seemed  to  be  alone  in  the 


A   New  Friend. 


31 


world.  Xor  did  she  seek  any  society  from  the  in- 
mates of  the  house,  returning  courteously  and  sadly 
their  salutations,  yet  ever  refusing  their  invitations  to 
be  more  sociable  and  friendly.  Xo  one  in  the  house 
knew  anything  of  her,  and  indeed  all  were  too  much 
occupied  with  their  own  cares  and  troubles  to  make 
many  inquiries.  No  one  knew  where  she  came  from, 
what  were  her  antecedents,  who  were  her  friends — if 
she  had  any,  nor,  in  fact,  anything  concerning  her, 
except  that  she  was  a  quiet  industrious  woman,  and 
evidently  very  unhappy. 

She  was  a  pale  delicate  creature,  who  might  pos- 
sibly have  seen  l^etter  days,  for  there  was  about  her 
an  air  of  partial  refinement  which  even  poverty  could 
not  entirely  conceal  ;  and  although  she  had  returned 
with  sweet  affability  the  various  tenders  of  friendly  in- 
tercourse which  had  been  made  to  her  by  the  inmates 
of  the  house,  she  had  repelled  their  advances  more  by 
her  manner  than  her  words. 

Julia  entered  the  house  with  a  bundle  of  vests,  and 
ascended  to  her  solitary  room  ;  she  met  Helen  who 
was  in  the  act  of  closing  the  door  of  her  own  apart- 
ment. The  sad,  weary,  and  woe-begone  appearance 
of  Juha  could  not  fail  to  attract  the  notice  of  Helen, 
who  paused  for  an  instant  as  if  hesitating  whether  she 
should  address  her  or  not ;  and  while  she  was  thus 


o2         The   Second  MarriaCxE. 

considering,  they  had  approached  so  near  that  to  pass 
without  absolute  incivihty  was  impossible. 

"I  am  very  sorry  to  know  of  your  misfortune," 
said  Helen,  with  a  kindly  smile,  "  but  I  did  not  call 
in  to  see  you,  because  " 

''It  was  not  necessary,"  said  Julia  interrupting 
her,  and  somewhat  coldly  ;  "  I  found  very  kind  friends 
in  the  house,  who  did  all  that  I  could  have  asked  of 
any  one,  and  to  whom  I  cannot  be  too  grateful." 

"  You  are  happy  to  have  friends,"  said  Helen, 
sadly,  a  shade  crossing  her  features,  "  I  hope  you 
may  always  be  so  blessed  ;"  and  she  was  passing  on, 
when  Julia,  scarce  knowing  what  prompted  the  action, 
placed  a  hand  upon  her  arm,  and  said,  "  We  ought 
not  to  be  such  strangers.  You  appea?-  to  be  alone — 
I  am  alone — alone  in  the  whole  world  ;  my  only  true 
friend,"  and  here  tears  almost  choked  her  utterance, 
"  has  left  me  forever." 

"We  will  not  be,"  said  Helen  impetuously,  "we 
must  not  be — come  in  my  room,  come  in,"  and  she 
hurriedly  replaced  the  key  which  she  had  withdrawn 
after  locking  the  door  of  her  humble  apartment ;  "we 
must  be  friends,  come  in."  And  Julia,  half-smiling  at 
the  sudden  change  in  the  words  and  manner  of  her 
neighbor,  and  more  than  half  liking  the  generous  im- 
pulses which  gave  them  birth,  suffered  herself  to  be 


t 

ANewFriend.  33 

almost  dragged  into  Helen's  room,  and  before  slie 
knew  what  she  was  doing,  had  laid  down  her  bundle, 
apd  was  seated  in  a  low  wooden  rocking-chair  which 
Helen  had  dragged  up  for  her. 

''We  must  be  friends,"  said  Helen,  drawing  a 
chair  close  to  Julia,  taking  both  her  hands  in  her 
own,  and  looking  affectionately  in  the  wan  face  of 
the  orphan — "we  must  be  friends.  God  knows,  I 
think  we  need  them  enough  and  from  that  moment 
their  hearts  were  openetl  to  each  other,  for  Julia 
could  not  resist  her  open  frankness. 

Julia  passed  an  hour  unconsciously  in  the  company 
of  her  new-found  friend.  They  talked  of  their  wrongs 
and  hardships,  their  trials  and  their  sufferings — for 
they  were  both  seamstresses,  and  the  reader  need 
hardly  be  told  that- they  had  enough  of  all,  at  least 
for  sympathy. 

"  But,  Helen  dear,"  (for  they  had  already  reached 
this  point  in  their  intimacy),  "how  came  you  to  be 
here  alone  ?  you,  so  young,  so  handsome,  so  far  above 
your  position  ?  As  for  me,  these  weeds  tell  my  tale  ; 
and  what  they  do  not  tell,  you  know,  as  you  have 
been  here  so  long." 

"It  is  a  long,  sad  story,  Julia.  I  won't  tell  it 
now,  but  it  may  serve  you  to  know  it  hereafter,  and 
at  some  other  time  I  will  make  you  acquainted  with 


34 


The  Second 


Marriage. 


it.  God  preserve  you,  my  dear  Julia,  from  my  trials 
and  my  sorrows.  A  parent's  curse  hangs  heavy  on 
my  heart,  and  in  the  veriest  sense  of  the  word  I  am 
alone.  Oh,  I  want  a  friend  indeed  ;  and  if  I  had 
but  one  bosom  in  which  I  dared  confide  my  sorrows, 

and  from  which  I  might  look  for  sympathy"  and 

without  concluding  her  sentence,  she  covered  her 
face  with  her  hands,  and  gave  way  to  the  tears 
which  she  could  no  longer  repress.  And  thus  was 
commenced  an  intimacy  which  begun  in  tears,  ended 
in  sunshine — born  of  sorrow,  continued  in  joy — but 
it  was  darkness  now  for  them  both. 


CHAPTER  lY. 


THE  SECOND  WIFE. 

My  practice,  though  large  among  the  poor  and 
needy,  was  not  entirely  confined  to  that  class. 

It  had  been  my  good  fortune  to  be  called  in  attend- 
ance on  patients  among  the  better  classes,  and  I  had 
the  better  fortune  to  retain  them. 

Among  these  was  the  family  of  one  Mr.  Evarts,  a 
merchant  of  high  standing,  great  wealth,  and  good 
social  position.  Besides  having  been  regularly  re- 
tained as  his  family  physician,  I  was  on  terms  of 
intimacy  with  the  family,  and  passed  many  pleasant 
evenings  there.  The  friendship  of  such  a  family  was 
of  vast  importance  to  me  in  a  professional  jioint  of 
Tiew,  and  I  cultivated  it  gladly  for  that  reason,  apart 
from  the  pleasure  I  derived  from  social  intercourse 
with  its  members. 

I  had  been  a  regular  visitor  upon  Mrs.  ^Marvin's 
child  nearly  a  month — indeed  I  don't  know  bnt  I 
called  often  when  my  professional  services  were  not 
required.    I  had  seen  it  restored  to  perfect  health, 


36         The   Second  Marriage. 

had  received  the  tearful  and  grateful  acknowledg- 
ments of  the  now  happy  mother,  and  had  imbibed  an 
increasing  desire  to  know  more  of  her  history— for 
each  interview  only  served  to  strengthen  my  first 
opmion,  that  she  was  out  of  her  sphere,  and  that 
some  secret  sorrow  was  preying  upon  her— so  that 
I  found  myself  irresistibly  drawn  towards  her. 

I  could  not,  of  course,  upon  an  acquaintance  so 
limited  and  so  singularly  formed,  make  any  inquiries 
of  her,  but  her  manner  towards  me  convinced  me 
that  she  relied  upon  me  as  a  friend,  and  I  left  it  to 
time  to  unravel  the  mystery  which  hung  over  her— 
for  mystery  I  was  sure  existed. 

On  the  evening  after  my  last  call  upon  her,  finding 
nothing  of  special  moment  upon  my  hands,  I  deter- 
mined to  visit  Mr.  Evarts,  and  was  welcomed  by  all 
with  their  usual  warmth  of  friendly  greeting. 

As  Mr.  Evarts  and  his  family  will  play  a  promi- 
nent part  in  this  narrative,  a  few  words  concerning 
them  must  be  permitted. 

I  have  said  he  was  a  gentleman  of  wealth— high 
social  standing,  well  esteemed  as  an  h'onorable  and 
successful  merchant.  He  was  about  fifty  years  of 
age— a  fine,  healthy,  hearty-lookmg  gentleman,  but 
there  was  about  him  a  pecuHar  nervous  irritability, 
for  which  I  could  not  account. 


The   Second  Wife. 


31 


His  pecuniary  circumstances  were  excellent.  His 
position  was  enviable  as  a  merchant.  His  domestic 
relations,  so  far  as  could  be  judged  from  external 
appearances,  were  calculated  to  make  any  man  hap- 
py, for  he  had  a  wife  and  daughter,  of  whom,  with 
the  same  criterion,  the  world  might  be  justified  in 
calling  him  a  happy  man. 

And  yet  he  was  not  happy,  and  it  was  made  pain- 
fully evident  to  me  at  times,  though  he  made  great 
efforts  to  conceal  it.  There  was,  I  was  satisfied, 
some  hidden  cause  for  his  occasional  fits  of  gloom 
and  despondency,  varied  only  by  high  nervous  irrita- 
tion which  annoyed  me  excessively,  and  I  wished  I 
could  discover  it,  not  with  any  hope  or  desire  of  al- 
leviating them,  but  from  the  natural  impulses  of 
my  heart,  which  made  me  wish  every  one  to  be 
happy. 

Mrs.  Evarts  was  his  perfect  counterpart,  and  she 
was  a  study  indeed — an  enigma,  which  I  sought  in 
vain  to  solve.  She  was  a  large,  elegantly-formed, 
really  fine-looking  woman  for  her  years,  (for  she  had 
passed  the  middle  stage  of  life),  but  she  was  exces- 
sively vain — fond  of  admiration,  which  she  almost 
courted,  and  proud  even  to  haughtiness.  Her  man- 
ners were  pleasing,  her  address  polished,  and  there 
was  that  about  her,  which,  barring  her  excessive  van- 


38         The   Second  Marriage. 


ity  and  foolish  pride,  would  have  made  her  a  most 
attractive  companion. 

It  required  very  little  discernment  to  discover  that 
she  was  tlie  mistress  not  only  of  the  mansion,  but  of 
all  that  pertained  to  it,  and  I  had  learned  enough  in 
my  contact  with  the  world  to  pay  my  court  to  her 
accordingly,  which  might  probably  account  for  the 
constant  graciousness  of  my  reception. 

Mr.  Evarts  seemed  to  live  m  constant  fear  of  her — 
not  that  she  exhibited  any  arbitrary  conduct  in  my 
presence,  but  he  paid  to  her  a  marked  deference, 
which  my  experience  told  me  arose  more  from  fear 
than  from  affection  or  acknowledged  superiority. 

Miss  Martha,  or  Mattie,  as  the  family  called  her, 
(and  by  the  way,  my  intimacy  was  so  close  that  I  too 
had  reached  Mcittie,)  was  a  pretty,  blue-eyed,  dark- 
haired,  well-formed,  and  well-informed  girl — decided- 
ly attractive  in  her  manner  and  appearance  ;  gener- 
ally cold  in  her  expression  until  warmed  with  anima- 
tion, when  her  conversational  powers  excelled  those 
of  almost  any  one  I  had  ever  met.  Indeed,  she  pos- 
sessed that  rare  faculty  to  such  an  eminent  degree, 
that  she  could  if  she  chose,  invest  the  most  trivial  sub- 
ject with  the  deepest  interest,  and  possessing  wonder- 
ful  powers  of  description,  her  conversation  was,  when 
she  chose  to  display  herself,  perfectly  fascinatmg. 


The   Second  Wife. 


39 


Her  deportment  was  generally  calm,  quiet,  and 
self-possossed,  and  so  far  as  I  could  judge,  and  I  cer- 
tainly had  every  opportunity  to  form  what  I  deemed 
to  be  a  correct  opinion,  she  was  of  an  even  and 
amiable  disposition. 

So  much  then  for  the  family  with  whom  I  passed 
my  first  evening  since  my  introduction  to  the  reader. 

I  was,  as  usual,  graciously  received.  Mr.  Evarts 
was  engrossed  in  the  evening  papers,  and  left  me  to 
the  ladies.  To  Mrs.  Evarts  I  paid  the  most  defer- 
ential attention,  while  Mattie  played  and  sang  at  me, 
and  for  me,  with  condescending  affability,  and  with 
evident  satisfaction  to  herself,  for  as  I  was  a  sort  of 
Calebs,  rising  in  my  profession,  and  moving  in  excel- 
lent society,  I  was  a  fair  match  even  for  the  daugh- 
ter of  Mr.  Evarts. 

I  confess  to  passing  a  very  pleasant  evening  ;  Mat- 
tie  was  unusually  interesting,  and  I  found  myself  more 
than  once  during  the  evening  wondering  what  kind 
of  a  wife  she  would  make  for  a  physician. 

As  the  evening  wore  on,  Mattie  having  wearied  of 
playing  and  singing,  the  conversation  took  a  general 
turn,  in  which  all  participated,  for  Mr.  Evarts  had  fin- 
ished his  papers,  and  joined  in  with  pleasant  alacrity. 

It  turned  at  length  upon  the  profession  I  had 
chosen,  and  by  mere  chance  I  spoke  of  the  numerous 


40 


The  Second  MarriacxE. 


calls  to  which  a  physician  has  constantly  to  respond, 
and  which  appeal  so  strongly  to  the  deepest  feelings 
of  the  human  heart— pity  and  sympathy. 

I  spoke  of  some  cases  of  pitiable  suffering  which 
had  come  under  my  own  observation  and  care,  and 
drew  a  true  but  strong  picture  of  the  misery,  want, 
suffering  and  sickness,  which  it  had  been  my  lot  to 
witness,  I  spoke  of  those  whom  I  had  seen  sick  and 
destitute,  with  no  one  near  to  comfort  or  console 
them,  with  no  friendly  hand  to  offer  the  most  triflmg 
assistance. 

"  Oh  Doctor  exclaimed  Mattie,  her  countenance 
beaming  with  a  generous  sympathy,  which  seemed 
to  spring  from  the  heart,  -  how  I  envy  you  the 
opportunities  which  your  profession  affords  of  allevi- 
ating the  distresses  of  those  unfortunate  beings.  It 
must  indeed  be  a  source  of  boundless  gratification  to 
know  that  you  can  give  them  at  least  the  comfort 
of  your  occasional  presence,''  and  she  gazed  into  my 
face  with  such  an  earnest  expression  of  sympathy,  it 
fairly  brought  the  hot  blood  to  my  cheeks. 

''Indeed,  it  is  a  great  pleasure,  though  not  un- 
mixed with  pain,  for  I  can  only  mmister  to  then- 
diseases,  and  their  wants  are  sometimes  harder  to 
bear  than  the  sickness.  Why,  withm  the  past  few 
days,  I  have  met  one— a  young  female— almost  desti- 


The   Second   Wife.  41 

tutc — whose  heart  was  racked  with  apprehensions 
for  her  only  child — a  lovely  boy  of  some  eighteen 
months,  and  who,  but  for  my  chance  acquaintance 
with  her  circumstances,  must  have  iDcen  thrust  into 
the  street  by  a  hard-hearted  landlord  for  the  paltry 
rent  of  one  miserable,  cheerless  apartment." 

"Poor  creature,"  said  Mr.  Evarts,  involuntarily 
putting  his  hand  in  his  pocket,  and  in  that  simple  act 
affording  me,  as  I  thought,  a  clearer  insight  into  his 
true  character  than  months  of  ordinary  intercourse 
would  have  enabled  me  to  reach. 

Mrs.  Evarts,  however,  was  not  equally  touched  by 
my  narrative,  or  if  she  was,  she  concealed  her  feel- 
ings very  effectually.  She  glanced  at  her  husband, 
however,  with  an  expression  of  uneasiness  for  which 
I  could  not  then  account.  He  met  her  look,  and 
seemed  fairly  to  quail  beneath  it,  for  he  essayed  at 
once  to  change  the  conversation,  but  in  this  he  was 
foiled  by  Mattie  very  innocently,  who,  seeming  really 
interested,  asked  how  I  chanced  to  meet  the  person 
who  had  excited  such  a  warm  interest  in  me. 

Carried  away  by  my  feelings,  I  narrated  briefly 
the  omnibus  ride — my  visit  to  her  house — the  sick 
child,  and  drew  a  vivid  picture  of  the  miserable  con- 
dition to  which  she  was  reduced,  closing  by  a  very 
emphatic  declaration  that  I  believed  she  was  suffer- 


42         The   Second  Marriage. 

ing  wrongfully,  through  uo  fault  of  her  own,  and  I 
expressed  the  hope  that  I  might  be  enabled  yet  to 
serve  and  right  her. 

"  Poor  creature,"  said  Mattie,  a  tear  trembling  on 
her  eyelid,  which  I  must  confess  I  wished  to  kiss 
away — "here,  Doctor,  give  this  to  her  as  a  token 
of  sympathy  from  one  of  her  own  sex,"  and  she  drew 
from  her  purse  a  gold  piece,  which  she  placed  in  my 
hand. 

Mrs.  Evarts  looked  reprovingly  at  her  daughter, 
but  her  father  rewarded  her  with  a  glance  of  appro- 
bation, and  if  she  had  taken  the  trouble  to  look  in 
'  my  face,  she  would  have  read  there  the  admiration  - 
which  I  did  not  care  to  conceal. 

"  Pray,  Doctor,"  said  Mrs.  Evarts,  with  a  cold, 
deferential  air,  which  chilled  me  to  the  heart,  "  I 
should  like  to  know  who  this  paragon  is,  and  where 
she  may  be  found.  I  am  connected  with  an  asso- 
ciation which  has  for  its  principal  object  the  relief 
of  cases  such  as  you  have  described  ;  and  I  am  sure 
it  will  afTord  us  pleasure  to  aid  one  who  seems  to 
have  enlisted  your  sympathy  so  warmly.  I  fear — 
perhaps  I  ought  not  to  say  that — but  possibly  the 
natural  kindness  of  your  heart  may  have  led  you 
into  an  error,  and  has  run  away  with  your  judg- 
ment.   Give  me  her  name  and  address,  and,  if  she 


The   Second  Wife. 


43 


is  really  a  worthy  object,  I  assure  you  her  distress 
shall  be  promptly  alleviated." 

"  Marvin — Cora  Marvin,"  I  exclaimed,  impetu- 
ously— as  if  the  very  mention  of  that  name  must 
inevitably  dispel  all  doubts  as  to  her  worth  and 
virtues. 

These  were  very  simple  words  ;  but  before  I  had 
time  to  add  to  them,  I  discovered  that  I  had  sprung 
a  mine  unconsciously  ;  and  the  explosion  was  actu- 
ally terrific  in  its  consequences. 

"Sir — Doctor — Sir!"  —  exclaimed  Mr.  Evarts, 
springing  from  his  chair — his  face  crimsoned  with 
excitement,  and  his  frame  trembling  with  indescrib- 
able emotion — "  Do  you  dare  to  insult  us  in  our 
own  house  ?  How  dare  you,  Sir,  mention  that  name 
in  my  presence  ?" 

"  Doctor,"  said  Jane,  with  a  glance  of  haughty 
indignation,  mixed  with  the  most  supreme  contempt, 
^'  I  must  confess  my  surprise  that  you  have  chosen 
such  a  time  and  such  a  sul)ject." 

"  In  the  name  of  goodness,  Mr.  Evarts,"  I  said, 
utterly  dumbfounded  at  this  sudden  explosion,  and 
covered  with  a  confusion  which  I  could  not  conceal, 
"  What  have  I  said  ?  what  have  I  done  ?  and  how 
have  I  insulted  you  ?" 

"  Doctor,"  said  his  wife,  waving  back  her  hus- 


44         The   Second  Marriage. 

oaud  with  a  haugMy  gesture,  as  he  was  advancing 
towards  me  to  reply,  I  am  convinced  you  have  not 
intended  any  wrong.  There  is  some  unfortunate 
mistake.  You  cannot,  I  am  sure,  be  acquainted 
with  the  character  and  conduct  of  that  vile  woman, 
or  you  would  never  pollute  our  house  by  the  men- 
tion of  her  name." 

"  I  do  assure  you,  on  my  honor  " — and  I  placed 
my  hand  on  my  heart  to  add  to  the  solemnity  of 
my  asseveration — "  I  had  not  the  most  remote  idea 
that  you  had  ever  before  heard  of  such  a  person  ; 
how,  therefore,  could  I  imagine  that  you  were  in 
any  wise  connected  with  her.  You  must  pardon  me, 
for  my  offence  has  been  most  unintentional." 

"  ]  believe  you,  Sir,"  she  replied  with  a  calm  dig- 
nity ;  ''I  could  not  be  so  much  mistaken  in  a 
gentleman  who  has  been  admitted  to  our  friendship — " 
and,  without  trusting  myself  to  a  reply,  I  bowed  to 
her  implied  compliment. 

Mr.  Evarts,  while  this  brief  conversation  was  car- 
ried on,  had  thrown  himself  into  a  chair,  with  his 
face  buried  in  his  hands,  and  as  his  wife  concluded 
her  last  remark,  he  uncovered  it,  and  I  actually 
started  back  at  the  sight.  He  was  ashy  pale  ;  his 
eyes  were  wet  with  tears  ;  and  there  was  an  expres- 
sion of  anguish  which  called  forth  my  deepest  pity. 


The  Second  Wife.  45 

Such  mental  tortnre  I  never  before  witnessed  under 
any  crrcumstances. 

I  saw  that  this  evening  was  spoiled  for  any- 
further  pleasure,  and,  stammering  out  some  words 
which  were  meant  as  an  apology  for  my  uninten- 
tional offence,  I  bade  them  good  evening ;  Mrs. 
Evarts,  contrary  to  her  usual  custom,  waiting  on  me 
to  the  door. 

As  I  turned  to  bow  a  last  adieu  to  Mr.  Evarts 
and  Mattie,  I  saw  him  look  at  his  wife  so  implor- 
ingly— so  beseechingly — with  such  an  expression  of 
misery — I  regretted  from  my  heart  that  I  had  been 
the  unwitting  cause  of  such  unhappiness  ;  though 
of  course  it  was  impossible  for  me  to  have  foreseen 
that  Cora  Marvin  was  in  any  wise  connected  with 
the  happiness  or  unhappiness  of  Mr.  Evarts  and  his 
family. 

When  I  reached  the  front  door,  closely  followed 
by  Mrs.  Evarts,  she  touched  my  arm  gently  as  I 
was  about  to  open  it,  and  said — in  tones  intended 
to  convey  the  impression  how  deeply  she  shared  in 
the  unhappiness  of  her  husband — "  Doctor,  you 
have  unwittingly  touched  a  chord  which  I  am  afraid 
will  vibrate  long.  The  unfortunate  woman  whom 
you  have  named,  has  brought  shame,  disgrace,  and 
infamy  on  a  doating  father,  and  wretchedness  to  all 


46         The  Second  Marriage. 

of  us  :  she  is  the  guilty  daughter  of  my  unhappy 
husband."  And,  without  giving  me  an  opportunity 
of  saying  more  than,  "  Good  Heavens  !  is  it  pos- 
sible ?"  she  opened  the  front  door  ;  and,  before  I 
was  fairly  aware  of  it,  I  was  in  the  street  alone — 
lost  in  amazement  at  the  extraordinary  disclosure 
just  made. 


CHAPTER  Y. 

THE  stepmother's  STORY. 

The  next  morning,  while  seated  in  my  office, 
pondering  upon  the  events  of  the  past  night,  and 
wondering  where  this  extraordinary  adventure  would 
terminate,  a  slight  tap  at  the  door,  answered  by  the 
usual  "  come  in,"  ushered  in  a  lady  whose  face  was 
covered  by  a  green  veil,  so  heavy  I  could  not  dis- 
tinguish her  features. 

As  I  rose  to  salute  her,  she  threw  up  her  veil,  and 
I  saw  before  me  Mrs.  Evarts,  who  half  smiled  at  the 
look  of  astonishment  which  I  could  not  repress,  on 
beholding  her  there  at  such  an  hour. 

Recovering  myself,  I  proffered  a  seat,  which  she 
took  with  one  of  her  blandest  smiles,  and  I  could  not 
but  think  what  must  have  been  the  fascination  of 
those  smiles,  when  she  was  in  the  full  bloom  of  her 
power  and  beauty. 

"  I  trust  no  one  of  the  family  is  ill,  Mrs.  Evarts," 
I  said,  for  I  saw  that  I  was  expected  to  say  some- 
thing, though  I  must  confess  I  had  no  idea  that  her 
visit  was  at  all  professional. 


48 


The   Secoxd  Marriage 


"^0,  Doctor,"  she  replied,  with  a  sigh  of  well- 
aflfected  huniihty,  mj  visit  here  is  in  connection 
with  a  matter,  compared  with  which  sickness  would 
be  almost  a  pleasure.    It  may  appear  singular  that  I 

should  "  and  ^s  I  saw  that  she  hesitated  to  finish 

the  sentence,  I  interrupted  her,  and  said,  "If  it  is 
of  such  a  character,  madam,  as  may  be  confided  to  a 
friend,  and  I  may  be  enabled  to  serve  you  or  yours,  I 
am  sure  you  must  feel  that  I  am  at  your  service." 

"  Thank  you.  Doctor,"  she  repUed,  bending  on  mc 
a  glance  from  her  piercing  black  eyes,  which  seemed 
to  penetrate  my  very  soul,  it  is  because  I  believe 
you  are  a  sincere  friend — because  I  beheve  you  have 
the  will  to  serve  us,  that  I  am  here.  I  wish  to 
consult  you  with  reference  to  the  miserable  young 
woman  whose  name,  so  long  forbidden  utterance  in 
our  house,  was  mentioned  by  you  last  evening." 

"  Of  Mrs.  Marvin  ?"  I  mqmred,  as  if  I  had  not 
fully  understood  what  she  had  said.  "% 

"  Precisely.  It  is  of  her  I  would  speak.  I — in- 
deed we  are  all  confident  that  you  could  not  have 
been  aware  of  the  peculiar  circumstances  connected 
with  her,  and  her  conduct  towards  our  family,  or 
you  would  never  have  introduced  a  subject  so  painful 
and  mortifying." 

"  Most  assuredly  not,"  I  replied,  with  an  earnest- 


The  Stepmother's  Story.  49 

ness  which  conyiuced  her  of  my  sincerity.  "  I  never 
saw  or  heard  of  her  until  within  the  past  few  days. 
As  I  told  you,  I  met  her  by  chance,  and  had  an 
opportunity  of  serving  her  through  her  child.  Of 
her  history  I  know  nothing,  nor  have  I  spoken  one 
word  to  her  of  her  past  or  future.  I  never  have 
refused  to  render  assistance  where  it  was  required, 
and  I  must  confess  that  I  did  so  in  her  case  with 
real  pleasure,  as  my  interest  was  awakened  for  her." 

Oh,  Doctor,"  said  my  visitor,  covering  her  face 
with  her  handkerchief,  and  feigning  or  feeling  deep 
emotion,  "how  gladly  would  we  have  placed  that 
unhappy  woman  in  a  position  where  she  would  not  be 
compelled  to  rely  upon  the  casual  relief  of  strangers. 
She  herself  has  placed  a  barrier  between  us,  which 
now  can  never  be  removed.  No  doubt  you  were 
deeply  interested  in  her,"  she  said,  suddenly  changing 
her  tone,  and  giving  me  another  of  those  piercing 
glances. 

''To  a  certain  extent,  yes.  I  considered  her  as  I 
have  found  her,  a  modest,  well-behaved  woman,  suf- 
fering from  misfortunes,  and  evidently  one  who  had 
seen  better  days.  Besides,  she  had  a  sick  child,  to 
which  I  ministered;  and  being  brought  in  daily  contact 
with  a  woman  young  and  beautiful,  thus  unfortunately 
placed,  it  would  have  been  unnatural  had  I  not  felt 


50        The  Second  Marriage. 

some  interest  in  her.  I  trust  you  know  nothing 
which  will  compel  me  to  change  my  opinion  of  her — 
nothing  to  make  me  feel  she  is  unworthy  of  the  in- 
terest I  have  taken  in  her." 

Doctor/'  she  said,  slowly,  and  with  an  impressive- 
ness  of  manner  which  quite  startled  me,  "as  your^ 
friend,  I  feel  it  my  duty  to  communicate  what  I  know 
of  her — you  may  then  draw  your  own  conclusions. 
Heaven  forbid,"  she  added,  with  deep  earnestness, 
"that  I  should  attempt  to  check  one  generous  im- 
pulse of  your  heart,  but  I  cannot  doubt  that  you 
would  feel  grateful  to  any  one  who  should  warn  you 
against  the  arts  of  a  woman  who  has  proved  so 
unworthy  the  regard  even  of  her  own  family.  If 
she  heeds  not  their  feelings,  you  may  judge  how 
capable  she  would  be  of  appreciating  such  noble  and 
disinterested  conduct'as  you  have  displayed  towards 
her.  Indeed,  you  have  been  wdfully  deceived,  Doc- 
tor, for  she  is  unworthy  a  single  generous  thought  of 
your  heart." 

"  Certainly,  madam,  not  only  should  I  regret  such 
a  discovery,  but  I  would  feel  grateful,  indeed,  for  that 
friendly  warning  which  might  save  me  from  the  con- 
sequences of  misguided  impulse.  I  never  yet  pauseii 
to  ask  whether  sickness  and  suffering  was  caused  by 
vice  or  misfortune  ;  it  was  enough  to  know  that  I 


The  Stepmother's  Story.  51 

could  be  of  service  ;  distress  and  want,  whether 
real  or  feigned,  never  fail  to  awaken  sympathy  in  my 
heart." 

"I  do  not  doubt  it.    But  I  am  detaining  you  ;  a 
few  words  will  sufiice  to  accomplish  the  purpose  of 
my  visit — have  you  a  few  moments  to  spare  ?" 
-  ''I  am  all  anxiety,  madam,  proceed." 

"  You  are  aware,  I  presume,  that  I  am  the  second 
wife  of  Mr.  Evarts,"  she  said  with  a  sigh,  wiping 
her  eyes  with  her  perfumed  handkerchief. 

"  Until  now  I  did  not  know  it ;  my  acquaintance 
with  your  family  has  not  been  of  long  duration,  and 
I  have  never  made  any  inquiries  concerning  you, 
which  might  be  deemed  impertinent." 

"  I  am,  of  course,  the  stepmother  of  Mrs.  Marvin, 
and  although  that  is  a  position  always  open  and  sub- 
ject to  reproach  and  censure,  I  feel  that  in  all  things 
I  have  faithfully  discharged  my  duty  as  a  wife  and 
mother. 

''Four  years  since,  while  Mr.  Evarts  was  at  the 
South,  we  were  married,  and  from  the  first  hour  of 
our  meeting,  Cora  exercised  the  most  decided  repug- 
nance to  her  father's  marriage,  and  an  hostility  to 
myself  equally  marked.  I  made  use  of  every  art  and 
effort  to  win  her  affections  and  regard,  for  having,  as 
you  know,  a  grown-up  daughter  of  my  own,  I  fore- 


4 


62         The  Second  Marriage. 

saw  what  disagreeable  consequences  must  ensue  if  she 
continued  to  cherish  such  sentiments  towards  me. 

"  Mattie  joined  me  in  essaying  to  win  the  affections 
of  Cora,  but  in  vain  ;  and  surely,  though  she  is  my 
own  daughter,  I  may  say  with  pride  and  pleasure, 
that  she  has  one  of  the  best  and  most  amiable  dispo- 
sitions I  ever  knew.  We  failed,  however,  with  all  our 
efforts  to  win  more  from  her  than  the  merest  ordinary 
civihty  ;  and  at  one  time,  so  determined  seemed  her 
hostility,  that  rather  than  risk  the  happiness  of  myself 
and  daughter  by  being  brought  in  constant  contact 
with  Cora,  I  positively  declined  to  become  Mr.  Evarts' 
wife,  for  I  foresaw  that  it  would  cause  unhappiness, 
and,  perhaps,  a  separation  of  his  family. 

Mr.  Evarts,  however,  assured  me  that  Cora  was 
a  hot-headed,  impulsive,  head-strong  girl,  accustomed 
to  have  her  own  way,  and  that  the  only  real  objection 
to  our  marriage,  was  the  dread  that  I  might  exercise 
an  influence  over  her,  and  attempt  to  control  her  con- 
duct. He  knew  she  would  love  me  when  she  came 
to  know  me  better  ;  and  overcome  by  his  arguments 
and  entreaties,  I  withdrew  my  opposition,  and  we 
were  married." 

"  I  have  never  ceased  to  regret  that  as  one  of  the 
most  unfortunate  steps  I  ever  took :  not  that  Mr. 
Evarts  is  anything  but  the  best  and  most  devoted  of 


The  Stepmother^s  Story.  53 

husbands,  and  he  loves  Mattie  as  though  she  were  his 
own,  but  it  causes  me  ceaseless  unhappiness  to  know 
that  I  have  been  the  cause,  unwittingly,  Heaven 
knows,  of  all  his  troubles,  when  I  had  hoped  to  bring 
peace  and  happiness  to  his  heart  and  home.  I  assure 
you.  Doctor,  that  thought  costs  me  restless  days  and 
sleepless  nights  ;  and  I  never  cease  to  reproach  my- 
self for  the  weakness  which  led  me  to  hsten  to  his 
persuasions,  in  spite  of  my  better  judgment. 

"  I  believe  it,  madam — from  my  heart  I  beheve  it," 
I  said,  carried  away  by  my  sympathy  for  her  evident 
distress  ;  for  the  tears  were  coursing  down  her  cheeks 
while  she  was  speaking. 

"  Cora,  Doctor,  has  been  the  cause  of  all  our 
troubles.  No  sooner  was  our  marriage  consummated, 
than  she  commenced  a  systematic  course  of  warfare 
upon  me.  Daily  she  outraged  my  feelings  by  re- 
minding me  of  what  her  mother  was — how  she  acted 
— what  she  did  and  spoke,  and  in  a  thousand  ways 
lacerating  my  feelings. 

"  I  strove  to  make  myself  all  her  mother  had  been  ; 
and  even  in  that  she  found  cause  for  censure,  re- 
proaching me  with  striving  to  win  her  father  from 
even  the  memory  of  his  first  wife's  virtues,  as  if  it 
was  not  my  duty  to  make  him  forget  the  loss  he  had 
sustained  in  her. 


64 


The   Second  Marriage. 


"  I  knew,  however,  that  my  duty  as  a  mother  and 
wife  demanded  I  should  'bear  and  forbear,' and  I 
did  so  ;  yes,  I  would  have  done  so  to  this  hour, 
but  that  she  chose  another  method,  and  assailed 
me  through  my  daughter  Mattie.  Her  cousin, 
Robert  Barton,  a  young,  high-spirited  gentleman, 
was  constant  in  his  attentions,  but  Cora  succeeded 
not  only  in  inducing  her  father  to  forbid  him  the 
house,  but  shamefully  cu'cuiated  reports  concerning 
her,  which  would  have  blasted  her  character  for 
ever.  Robert  never  entered  the  house  from  the 
time  after  Mr.  Evarts  forbade  his  presence  ;  and, 
it  was  only  when  Mr.  Evai'ts  was  entirely  convinced 
of  his  perfect  integrity,  and  so  expressed  himself,  he 
could  be  induced  to  renew  liis  visits,  notwithstanding 
his  strong  attachment  to  Mattie. 

"  This  course  on  the  part  of  Cora  I  knew  was 
prompted  solely  by  jealousy  of  poor  Mattie,  who 
really  did  not  care  for  Robert,  while  Cora  took  no 
pains  to  conceal  her  passionate  attachment  to  him. 

"  It  was  not  long  before  I  discovered  that  she 
had  actually  thrown  herself  into  his  arms,  and  had 
offered  to  sacrifice  her  honor  to  her  passion  for  him. 

"  This  was  more  than  I  would  submit  to  ;  and  I 
therefore  resolved  that  she  or  I  must  leave  the 
house  ;  and  I  will  do  Mr.  Evarts  the  justice  to  say, 


The  Stepmother's  Story.  55 

that  when  made  fully  acquainted  with  her  conduct, 
he  did  not  hesitate  an  instant  in  his  choice. 

"  Cora  was  sent  to  a  respectable  boarding-house, 
in  charge  of  an  intimate  friend  of  her  father,  but 
she  had  not  been  there  long  before  she  became  at- 
tached to  a  young  sailor,  named  Marvin,  and  I 
beUeve  she  was  married  to  him. 

After  he  went  to  sea,  her  conduct  became  so 
openly  loose,  Mrs.  Edmonds  refused  longer  to  allow 
her  hi  the  house.  Her  father  offered  to  make  ample 
provision  for  her,  but  she  obstinately  refused  it,  de- 
claring she  would  rather  starve  than  accept  aid  from 
him,  so  long  as  he  hved  with  one  so  unworthy  of  his 
name  as  I  was. 

"Finding  remonstrances  useless,  and  almost  heart- 
broken at  the  misconduct  of  his  only  daughter,  my 
husband  strove  to  forget  her  entu'ely,  and  by  com- 
mon consent  her  name  has  never  been  mentioned  in 
our  house  from  that  time  forward." 

"  But  did  Cora  admit  her  guilt  ?"  I  asked,  shocked 
at  the  unexpected  discovery  made  to  me  ;  "  was  she 
not  repentant  ?" 

Oh,  Doctor,  no  ;  on  the  contrary,  with  the  most 
unblushing  effrontery,  she  persisted  in  asserting  her 
innocence,  in  spite  of  the  strongest  possible  proofs, 
and  even  had  the  shamefacedness  to  assert,  that  the 


56        The   Second  Marriage. 

whole  was  an  affair  of  my  invention,  without  a 
shadow  of  foundation.  Nay,  she  even  went  so  far 
as  to  accuse  Mattie  of  the  very  crimes  which  I  had 
fastened  upon  her.  I  would  have  borne  every  thing 
but  that ;  and,  as  I  have  said,  a  separation  took 
place.  The  rest  I  have  told  you  ;  and  now.  Doctor, 
draw  your  own  conclusions." 

Really,  Madam,  you  have  astonished  me  beyond 
measure.  What  you  have  told  me  is  so  foreign  to 
her  manners — her  air — her  general  deportment. 
She  seemed  so  modest — so  retiring — so  melancholy." 

"  She  has  enough  to  make  her  melancholy,  if  she 
is  capable  of  feeling  at  all.  She  has  nearly  broken 
the  heart  of  the  best  and  kindest  of  fathers  ;  ruined 
the  peace  of  mind  of  one  who  would  have  been  a 
mother  to  her,  and  attacked  the  reputation  of  a  girl 
as  pure  and  gentle  as  ever  breathed.  But  her  art- 
fulness is  beyond  comprehension.  She  can  assume 
an  appearance  of  modesty  and  artlessness,  which 
would  deceive  the  wisest ;  and  I  do  not  wonder  at 
all,  that  with  one  so  full  of  noble  and  generous  im- 
pulses as  yourself,  she  found  an  easy  convert  to 
her  arts. 

"  But,  Doctor,"  she  continued,  wiping  her  eyes — 
for  she  had  wept  freely  during  this  recital — I  have 
warned  you,  as  I  felt  it  to  be  my  duty,  against  her. 


The  Stepmother's  Story.  57 

She  will  inevitably  lead  you  into  some  disagreeable 
position  if  you  continue  to  visit  her  ;  and  that,  you 
know,  would  be  fatal  to  your  professional  career. 
The  interest  which  1  take  in  you  as  our  friend  and 
physician,  is  the  only  excuse  I  can  offer  for  my  ap- 
pearance here,  and  for  what  I  have  told  you." 

For  which  I  thank  you  from  my  heart.  I  am 
astonished  and  bewildered  beyond  measure  at  what 
I  have  heard,  but  rest  assured  I  shall  not  fail 
to  heed  the  warning  you  have  so  kindly  given,  and 
prove  myself  worthy  of  the  interest  you  have  pro- 
fessed for  me." 

"  And  now,  I  must  go,"  she  said,  rising  ;  "it  is 
not  necessary  that  you  should  mention  to  any  one " 
(and  I  knew  from  the  emphasis  on  her  words  she 
meant  only  her  husband)  ''that  I  have  been  here, 
or  what  has  passed  between  us  ;  I  rely  upon  your 
honor  for  that ;  it  would  only  cause  added  un- 
happiness  were  it  known  that  a  friend,  whom  we 
all  so  highly  esteem,  was  acquainted  witli  this  mel- 
ancholy history.  My  sole  object  has  been  to 
prevent  you  from  being  put  in  a  false  position, 
and  drawn  into  a  vortex  from  which  you  might 
find  it  impossible  to  extricate  yourself.  Good 
morning,  Doctor  ;  come  around  soon."    And,  draw- 


2* 


58         The   Second  Marriage. 

ing  her  heavy  veil  over  her  face,  she  left  the  office, 
and  I  was  aloue  with  my  thoughts. 

For  a  few  moments  I  sat  mute  and  wondering, 
and  at  length,  muttering  to  myself,  "  I  believe  it's 
a  cursed  pack  of  lies  from  beginning  to  end,"  I 
seized  my  hat  and  coat,  and  sallied  forth  to  make 
my  routine  of  professional  calls. 


CHAPTER  YI. 


FATHER    AND  DAUGHTER. 

Filled  with  my  own  thoughts,  and  they  were  not 
very  pleasant,  I  was  just  stepping  off  the  office  stoop, 
when  I  stumbled  against  a  gentleman  who  was  in 
the  act  of  ascending,  and  looking  up,  I  found  myself 
face  to  face  with  Mr.  Evarts. 

Excusing  myself  for  the  unintentional  rudeness,  I 
invited  him  to  walk  in,  and,  as  he  complied,  he  cast 
stealthy  glances  up  and  down  the  street,  as  if  to 
observe  if  he  was  watched. 

"  Doctor,  can  you  give  me  a  few  moments  of 
private  conversation — I  will  not  detain  you  long," 
and  he  spoke  in  those  quick,  anxious,  nervous  tones 
which  had  often  before  attracted  my  attention. 

"  Certainly,"  and  locking  the  door  so  as  to  pre- 
vent possible  interruption,  I  handed  him  a  chair,  into 
which  he  sank  as  if  exhausted,  exhibiting  every  sign 
of  deep  emotion.  I  maintained  silence,  for  I  well 
forebode  the  purpose  of  his  call,  and  from  my  heart 
felt  for  him  the  deepest  sympathy. 


60         The   Second  Marriage. 

"  You  are  not  well,"  I  said,  at  length,  finding  that 
he  uttered  no  word,  "  you  look  pale  and  nervous — 
let  me  give  you  something  to  quiet  you." 

ISo,  no — never  mmd — it  will  pass  over  directly 
■ — don't  mind  me.  You  can  imagme,  Doctor,  why  I 
am  here,"  he  said,  with  a  strong  efi'ort  at  composure  ; 

you  mentioned  last  night  the  name  of  one  who  was 
dear — oh  !  how  dear  to  me" — and  he  spoke  so  sadly, 
so  sorrowfully,  I  pitied  him  from  my  heart,  for  I  saw 
that  she  still  held  the  first  and  hohest  place  in  his 
heart. 

I  merely  bowed  assent,  and  he  continued  :  "  Un- 
worthily as  she  has  acted — unkmdly — unnaturally — 
she  is  still  my  daughter.  She  was  my  only  child. 
Doctor,  and  oh  !  how  I  loved  the  very  ground  on 
which  she  trod.  Bat  -Scannot,  I  could  not  hear  that 
she  was  suffering,  without  at  least  a  wish  to  relieve 
her.  I  would  not  for  the  world  have  her  to  know 
that  I  have  even  heard  of  her  position.  Will  you, 
Doctor,  be  my  friend  and  almoner  ?  Your  profes- 
sional character  will  enable  you  to  do  that  without 
suspicion.  She  must  not,  however,  on  any  considera- 
tion, know  that  it  comes  from  me,  or  she  would 
refuse  it." 

"And  why,  Mr.  Evarts?"  I  inquired,  for  notwith- 
standing what  Mrs.  Evarts  had  just  told  me,  I  could 


Father   and  Daughter. 


61 


not  feel  that  a  daughter,  an  only,  loved,  and  petted 
child,  would  refuse  a  father's  bounty — 'Svhy  should 
she  refuse  it  as  coming  from  you  ?  Will  you  not  go 
yourself,  and  — 

"Not  for  the  world,"  he  hastily  interrupted — "on 
no  conceivable  account.  Excuse  me  if  I  do  not  give 
you  any  reasons  for  my  conduct.  Do  not  ask  me 
any,  but  consent  to  my  request.  You  can  manage 
it  in  any  manner  you  think  proper, — only  do  it,  and  I 
shall  have  the  consciousness  that  I  have  done  my 
duty." 

"  I  am  afraid  not,"  I  thought,  but  1  said,  I 
will  do  as  you  wish  with  pleasure,  and  shall  ask  no 
reasons,  but  I  cannot  help  thinking,  if  you  saw  that 
sweet,  mild,  modest  face — if  you  could  witness  how 
uncomplainingly  she  suffers — ^if  you  could  see  that 
lovely  boy,  of  whom  any  one  on  earth  might  be 
proud,  you  would  — " 

,  "No  more.  Doctor.  Do  not  speak  so.  I  tell 
you  it  is  utterly  impossible.  You  can  tell  her  that 
the  money  was  raised  by  voluntary  subscription 
among  those  to  whom  you  had  mentioned  her  con- 
dition and  circumstances.  That  would  be  true,  you 
know,"  he  added,  with  a  ghastly  attempt  at  a 
smile. 

I  fear  she  would  not  receive  it  on  those  terms  ; 


62         The   Second  Marriage. 

for  if  I  read  her  aright,  she  has  her  own  share  of 
pride." 

"  Well,  try  it ;  there  is  no  harm  in  that.  Here, 
take  this,"  and  he  handed  me  a  roll  of  bills,  some 
fifty  dollars  in  amount — "  take  it  to  please  me,  and 
give  it  to  her  as  you  choose,  so  she  does  not  know- 
whence  it  comes." 

I  will  give  it  to  her  as  the  voluntary  contribu- 
tion of  a  benevolent  gentleman,"  I  said,  thrusting 
it  into  my  vest  pocket,  and  as  I  spoke  I  noticed  a 
peculiar  expression  cross  his  countenance,  the  mean- 
ing of  which  was  an  enigma  to  me. 

"  Some  other  time,  when  we  have  both  of  us  more 
leisure,  I  may  make  you  acquainted  with  my  history, 
so  far  as  she  is  concerned.  I  will  call  to-morrow, 
and  you  will  let  me  know  then  the  result  of  your 
visit.    Of  course  you  will  see  her  to-day  ?" 

"I  will,  though  I  have  no  professional  excuse  to 
make,  for  her  child  has  been  quite  well  for  a  week 
past.  However,  I  do  not  need  any  excuse  for 
calling." 

"  Who  does  the  child  look  like,  Doctor  ?"  he  said, 
as  if  half  ashamed  to  ask  the  question. 

"  Xow  I  look  at  you  more  closely,  Mr.  Evarts,  I 
think  he  favors  you  wonderfully.  He  is  a  noble, 
beautiful  child." 


Father  and  Daughter. 


63 


One  thing  more,  Doctor,"  he  said,  relapsing  into 
his  nervous,  anxious  manner,  as  he  took  off  his  hat  ; 
''there  is  no  necessity  of  naming  my  visit  or  its 
object  to  any  one — I  presume  you  understand  ?" 

"Perfectly,  Mr.  Evarts.  You  may  confide  in  me, 
I  assure  you." 

"  Then,  good  morning,  and  success  to  your  mission," 
he  said,  as  he  bowed  himself  out  of  the  office. 

"Here,  then,"  I  said  to  myself,  "is  a  partial  so- 
lution of  this  mystery.  There  is  some  deviltry  going 
on,  and  I  will  fathom  it,  Mrs.  Evarts,  you  need  not 
tell  me.  Xo  matter,  I'll  get  at  the  bottom  of  this 
yet.  I  can  play  as  deep  a  game  as  you  can,  any 
day,  and  I  hold  the  trump  cards  now." 

True  to  my  promise,  when  I  had  finished  my  regu- 
lar visits,  I  called  on  Mrs.  Marvin,  and  found  her  as 
usual  seated  at  her  sewing,  while  Clarence  was  amus- 
ing himself  on  the  floor  with  a  little  toy  which  I  had 
brought  him  during  his  sickness. 

She  received  me  with  her  wonted  frankness  and 
warmth,  and  I  actually  blushed  when  I  looked  at 
her,  to  think  that  for  an  instant  I  had  given  credence 
to  a  report  derogatory  to  one  on  whose  truth  and 
purity  I  would  have  staked  my  life. 

This  was  the  first  thought ;  then  came  to  my  mind 
th^  words  of  Mrs.  Evarts,  her  father's  refusal  to  see 


64 


The   Second  Marriage. 


her,  the  pecuharity  of  her  present  position,  all  com- 
bined to  change  my  views  ;  and  though  I  could  not 
bring  myself,  as  I  looked  in  her  open,  ingenuous 
face,  to  believe  her  capable  of  such  artfulness  and 
deceit,  I  resolved  to  be  on  my  guard,  and  watch  her 
narrowly  Even  her  frank  and  cordial  manner  of 
receiving  me  startled  me,  and  I  half  shrank  from  her 
extended  hand. 

Fortunately  she  did  not  notice  the  movement,  but 
exclaimed,  "  Oh,  Doctor,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you, 
and  I  am  so  grateful  to  you — my  darling  here  is  so 
well,  and  so  cheerful,  and  so  happy,  and  I  was  so 
frightened  for  fear  I  should  lose  him  and  she  drew 
the  smiling  little  rascal  to  her  heart  with  a  fervor 
that  showed  how  deeply  he  was  imbedded  there. 
"  How  can  I  ever  repay  you  ?" 

"  Tut,  tut — never  mind  that  now — some  other 
time.  No  one  knows  what  a  day  may  bring  forth. 
You  will  be  rich  one  of  these  days,  and  perhaps  you 
will  recommend  me  to  a  large  practice.  Come  here, 
youngster,"  and  the  little  fellow,  who  had  grown 
really  attached  to  me,  was  in  an  instant  seated  on 
my  knee,  playing  with  the  seals  of  my  watch, 

"  See,  Doctor,"  she  said,  with  a  bright,  winning 
smile,  and  her  countenance  beaming  with  gratitude 
to  me,  "  Clarence  knows  who  is  kind  to  him.  I 

« 


Father   and  Daughter. 


65 


never  saw  him  go  to  any  one  but  you.  Young  as  he 
is  now,  he  remembers  your  kindness,  and  I  will  see 
that  he  never  forgets  it  as  he  grows  up.  And  now, 
doctor,  I  want  to  return  the  money  you  were  so  kind 
as  to  loan  me  the  first  day  you  saw  me  and  going 
to  a  small  cupboard,  she  took  thence  some  silver 
wrapped  "up  in  a  bill,  which  she  placed  in  my  hand. 
"There,  Doctor,  that  makes  me  happy." 

"But  really,  I  don't  want  it,  and  I  know  you 
can't  spare  it." 

"Indeed,  but  I  can.  Mr.  Parsons  has  paid  up 
all  he  owed  me,  and  I  have  more  left.  With  my 
health  preserved,  I  can  get  on  well  enough  now." 

"  Mrs.  Marvin,"  I  said,  now  perfectly  convinced  by 
the  earnest,  single-hearted  sincerity  of  her  manner, 
"  I  cannot  refuse  to  take  this,  for  I  have  no  right  to 
ask  you  to  remain  under  obhgations  to  a  stranger." 

"  A  stranger.  Doctor — may  I  meet  more  such 
strangers,"  she  said,  with  a  frank  ingenuousness. 
"You  must  not  speak  in  that  manner  to  me.  I 
assure  you  that  should  circumstances  again  require 
it,  I  would  seek  assistance  from  you  with  entire 
freedom,  before  any  other  person  in  the  city." 

"Mrs.  Marvin,"  I  said,  determined  to  come  to  the 
point  at  once,  "  I  took  a  great  liberty  last  night  with 
you,  and  in  your  behalf." 


66         The  Second  Marriage. 

With  me,  sir,  and  in  my  behalf?" 

Yes  ;  I  was  in  company  where  the  subject  of  the 
low  wages  paid  to  female  operatives  was  broached, 
and  I  spoke  of  the  many  cases  of  sickness  and  desti- 
tution I  had  witnessed  professionally,  by  reason  of 
their  inability  to  eke  out  a  living  on  the  miserable 
pittance  paid  to  them." 

"  Well,  sir,"  she  said,  inquiringiy,  holding  out  her 
arms  for  the  child,  as  if  fearful  that  some  harm  was 
abou't  to  come  to  him,  and  I  could  see  by  the  ex- 
pression of  her  countenance  that  she  was  deeply 
pained. 

''I  assure  you,  madam,  I  spoke  in  very  sincerity, 
and  from  the  best  of  motives." 

"  I  do  not  doubt  it,  sir — I  cannot  doubt  it.  I 
know  not  why  I  should  feel  at  all,  placed  as  I  am  ; 
but  yon  will,  I  am  sure,  appreciate  my  motives  in 
wishing  to  keep  the  knowledge  of  my  poverty  from 
the  heartless  world." 

"  I  do  assure  you,  madam,  that  what  I  mentioned 
last  night  will  never  go  beyond  the  family  circle  in 
which  it  was  named  ;  and  to  prove  to  you  that  my 
narrative  had  elfect  upon  at  least  one  person,  there 
was  a  gentleman  present  who  handed  this  to  me  as  a 
tribute  from  his  benevolence,"  and  I  tendered  to  her 
the  bills  which  Mr.  Evarts  had  given  to  me  for  her. 


Father   and  Daughter. 


61 


She  took  the  notes,  and  glancing  hastily  at  the 
amount,  turned  ashy  pale,  and  I  noticed  that  she 
was  excessively  agitated. 

Raising  her  eyes  to  my  face,  she  looked  at  me  with 
a  cold  calm  gaze,  which  I  could  not  have  withstood 
had  I  harbored  an  improper  thought  towards  her,  and 
extending  the  bills  to  me,  she  said  calmly  but  firmly — 

"  You  are  very  kind,  indeed,  and  your  friend  is 
very  kind  also,  but  I  cannot  accept  this  money." 

"  But,  Mrs.  Marvin,  I  assure  you,  your  refusal 
would  be  a  source  of  great  pain  to  the  donor." 

"  Oh,  no,  that  cannot  be.  I  am  an  utter  stranger 
to  him,  save  as  your  kindness  may  have  made  me 
known' and  magnified  my  wants.  This  sum  will  serve 
to  relieve  a  great  many  who  are  in  greater  need  of  it 
than  I  am." 

"  Really,  Mrs.  Marvin,  I  cannot  consent  to  receive 
it.  It  was  sent  for  your  personal  use  ;  and  if  I  were 
to  make  your  refusal  known  to  your  fa  

I  checked  myself  l)efore  the  word  was  uttered, 
but  she  caught  my  meaning,  and  springing  towards 
me  with  a  flushed  countenance  and  flashing  eyes,  she 
exclaimed,  eagerly — 

"  Oh,  did  my  dear  father  send  this  to  me  ?  Tell 
me  truly.  Doctor  do  not  deceive  me  ;  do  not  let  me 
feel  I  may  not  look  for  truth  in  any  one  in  the  whole 


68         The  Second  Marriage. 

world.  Tell  me,  Doctor,  in  very  truth,  was  this  my 
dear,  dear  father's  gift?"  And  as  she  spoke,  tears 
gathered  in  her  eyes,  and  her  whole  frame  quivered 
with  excitement. 

I  dared  not  deceive  her,  as  I  had  already  said  suf- 
ficient to  give  her  reason  to  doubt  my  denial  if  I  had 
felt  inchned  to  make  one,  and  I  said  frankly,  "  Mrs. 
Marvin,  upon  my  honor,  it  was  given  to  me  by  him 
for  you." 

"  Thank  God — thank  G  od,"  she  exclaimed,  passion- 
ately, he  loves  me  yet — I  knew — I  felt  he  did  ; 
God  bless  you.  Doctor,  for  this  moment  of  hap- 
piness— the  only  one  I  have  known  for  many  months. 
IsTow,  tell  me  Doctor,  how  did  he  send  it  ?  Why  ? 
What  did  he  say  ?  Tell  me  all  about  it.  Do  tell  me. 
Doctor.  Do  not  conceal  anything  from  me.  Oh,  you 
have  made  me  so  happy  ;"  and  taking  my  hand  she 
pressed  it  with  the  fervor  of  earnest  thankfulness. 
"  Oh,  how  happy  it  has  made  me,  the  thought — nay, 
the  certainty,  that  my  father  does  love  me  still." 

If  I  had  chosen  to  avail  myself  of  the  opportunity 
to  learn  all  I  desired  of  her  history,  it  was  now  af- 
forded me  ;  but  I  forbore  to  take  advantage  of  her 
present  position  and  feehngs  ;  and  therefore  conceal- 
ing the  fact,  that  Mr.  Evarts  had  been  at  my  office  on 
that  very  morning,  I  merely  mentioned,  that  having 


Father   and   Daughter.  69 

chanced  to  name  her  on  the  previous  evening  in  the 
presence  of  her  family,  her  father  had  called  at  my 
office  in  the  morning,  and  had  instructed  me  to  present 
that  to  her. 

But  not  as  a  gift  from  hmi,  Doctor,  not  as 
coming  from  a  loving  father's  heart  f  and  she  spoke 
with  a  tone  of  sadness  and  despondency  that  almost 
brought  the  tears  to  my  eyes. 

No,  Mrs.  Marvm,  I  could  not  deceive  you  ;  on 
the  contrary,  I  was  expressly  forbidden  to  mention 
the  fact  of  his  agency  at  all." 

I  feared  so,"  she  said,  mournfully,  and  tears 
gathered  in  her  eyes,  as  she  bent  over  her  child  and 
imprmted  a  kiss  upon  his  upturned  forehead,  as  if  in 
that  act  she  derived  some  comfort  m  her  affliction. 

Suddenly  raising  her  eyes  to  mine,  she  said  eagerly, 
"  Oh,  Doctor,  tell  me  about  it — all  about  my  dear  un- 
happy father,  for  I  know  he  is  unhappy.  How  does 
he  look  ?   Is  he  well  ?    Do  you  think  he  loves  me  ?" 

"  Loves  you  ?  Why,  Mrs.  Marvin,  every  thought 
of  his  heart  is  centered  in  you.  I  may  have  done 
wrong  ;  but  you  cannot  imagine  how  I  longed  and 
strove  to  bring  him  here  that  he  might  see  this  noble 
httle  fellow  and  I  patted  Clarence's  head,  as  he 
crept  up  to  me. 

"  Did  he  ask  after  Clarence  ?" 


•70 


The   Second  Marriage 


"  Ob,  yes  ;  he  asked  who  he  looked  like,  and  I 
said  I  thought  he  favored  him." 

"And  did  he  seem  pleased  at  the  thought?" 
Indeed  he  did  ;  he  smiled  as  I  have  not  seen  him 
smile  m  a  long  tune." 

"  You  must  have  thought  it  very  strange,  Doctor," 
she  said,  half  musingly,  "  when  you  found  out  who  I 
was,  to  find  me  in  such  a  situation  ;  a  daughter~an 
only  child-separated  from  her  only  parent  and 
protector,  and  thrown,  as  you  see  me,  upon  the 
cold  world." 

"I  must  confess  that  I  did;  and  if  I  may  be 
permitted  to  speak  in  perfect  candor,  I  should  like 
to  say  " 

"  Go  on,  Doctor,"  she  said,  seemg  that  I  hesi- 
tated—- you  can  say  nothing  for  which  1  am  un- 
prepared." 

"Well,  then,  frankly,  I  was  about  to  say,  that 
what  I  heard  of  you  made  a  deep  impression  on  me 
to  your  prejudice.  That  I  cherish  such  feelings  no 
more,  is  abundantly  evidenced  by  the  feet  that  I  am 
here  ;  and,  permit  me  to  add,  I  am  perfectly  satis- 
fied that  all  was  pure  invention,  and  intended  to 
operate  on  my  mind  against  you.  More  yet—" 
seeing  she  was  about  to  interrupt  me— - 1  know 
and  feel  they  have  been  falsehoods;  and  I  tell  you 


Father  and  Daughter. 


n 


that,  while  I  honor  and  respect  you,  I  will,  with 
my  whole  heart,  serve  you  to  the  best  of  my  poor 
abihty.  I  am  sure  you  do  not  merit  the  treatment 
you  are  receiving." 

"  My  conscience  tells  me  that  I  do  not ;  and  I 
cannot  but  believe  that  there  is  a  day  of  terrible 
retribution  coming,  for  those  who  have  wrought  so 
much  misery.  You  have  received  your  informa- 
tion, of  course,  from  Mrs.  Evarts — my  poor  father's 
wife  r 

"  Yes." 

"  In  the  name  of  all  that  is  evil,"  she  exclaimed, 
vehemently,  wringing  her  hands,  "  why  can  she  not 
leave  me  alone  now  ?  Surely  she  ought  to  be  satis- 
fied. She  has  blackened  my  character — she  has 
driven  me  from  my  father's  home,  and  almost  from 
his  heart — she  has  -wTought  the  worst  ! — why  can 
she  not  leave  me  to  my  misery,  and  why  pursue  me 
here  ?" 

"  I  believe  you,  Mrs.  Marvin  ;  and  this  morning, 
even  while  she  was  detailing  he?-  history  of  your  con- 
duct, I  could  not  but  feel  that  there  was  more  than 
she  cared  to  have  me  know.  Her  very  anxiety  to 
put  me  on  my  guard  against  your  arts  and  wiles,  as 
she  terms  them,  convinced  me  of  that." 

"  Then  you  are  not  afraid  of  me.  Doctor,"  she 


*I2         The  Second  Marriage. 

said,  stretcliiug  out  a  baud,  which  I  took  respect- 
fully— "  I  could  not,  if  I  would,  deceive  you  ;  you 
have  rendered  me  too  great  a  service." 

"  But  do  you  care  to  hear  what  I  have  to  say  ? 
Perhaps  our  stories  may  differ  somewhat.  Shall  I 
tell  you  how  you  find  me  here  ?" 

"  Most  willingly  would  I  hear  of  it  ;  and  I  trust 
from  my  heart  that  I  may  yet  be  enabled  to  serve 
you." 

"  Now  then,  Clarence,  go  play  ;  that's  a  good  boy. 
Sit  down.  Doctor  ;  I  won't  detain  you  long."  And 
she  proceeded  to  give  the  narrative  of  her  first 
acquaintance  and  connection  with  her  father's  second 
wife. 


CHAPTER  YII. 


THE    daughter's  STORY. 

"It  is  not  necessary,  Doctor,  to  go  back  many 
years,"  she  commenced,  when  I  had  seated  myself 
with  an  air  of  interest  and  attention.  My  dear 
mother,  by  whom,  as  well  as  by  my  father,  I  had 
been  much  petted,  died  about  six  years  ago,  and  I 
was  left  in  charge  of  my  father's  establishment. 

''About  two  years  after  her  death,  business,  and 
my  father's  health,  which  physicians  declared  re- 
quired a  milder  climate,  took  us  to  Savannah,  where 
he  purposed  remainmg  for  at  least  a  year,  trusting 
that  the  change  of  air  would  restore  him. 

His  position  in  Jfew-York  was  such  as  to  en- 
title him  to  an  entree  into  the  best  circles  there,  and 
we  were  not  long  in  forming  many  and  pleasant 
acquaintances.  Among  them  was  Mrs.  Main  and 
her  daughter  Mattie,  with  a  nephew,  Robert  Barton, 
who  boarded  at  the  same  house  with  ourselves,  and 
with  whom  an  intunacy  soon  sprung  up,  for  I  was 
exceedingly  pleased  with  them. 

4 


14         The  Second  Marriage. 

"The  mother,  I  fancied,  had  some  odd  ways,  but 
I  was  ready  to  excuse  them,  attributing  them  merely 
to  a  natural  eccentricity  of  character,  at  which  I 
often  laughed,  while  Martha  seemed  to  me  to  be  one 
of  the  most  loveable,  amiable  girls  I  ever  knew. 

"  Her  cousin  Robert,  a  handsome,  well-informed 
young  man,  was  our  constant  attendant,  and  in  such 
pleasant  society,  the  weeks  and  months  flew  rapidly 
by. 

"My  fatlier  was  equally  pleased  as  myself  with 
the  family,  and  Mrs.  Mam,  seeing  the  impression 
she  had  made,  commenced  laying  her  plans  for  the 
future.  To  me  she  was  all  gentleness,  kindness,  and 
affability.  If  I  complained  of  a  headache,  she 
affected  the  greatest  interest  and  sympathy,  and  was 
always  at  hand  with  some  remedy.  Indeed,  she  ex- 
hibited such  an  unusual  affection  for,  and  interest  in 
me,  I  began  to  doubt  her  sincerity,  and  set  a  watch 
upon  myself  lest  I  should  be  carried  away  by  my 
infatuation. 

"  Rol)ert  Barton  was  exceedmgly  attentive  to  me, 
and  but  for  a  lucky  chance,  I  must  confess  I  might 
have  learned  to  love  him  in  time,  and,  become  his 
wife,  for  such  I  thought  were  his  intentions. 

"  I  chanced  one  day  to  overhear  a  brief  conversa- 
tion between  the  cousins,  which  opened  my  eyes  to 


The  Daughter's  Story. 


75 


the  reality  of  my  position,  so  far  as  he  was  concerned, 
and  thenceforward,  though  I  permitted  him  to  con- 
tinu'^  his  attentions,  the  better  to  further  my  own 
plans,  I  was  fully  on  my  guard  against  his  arts. 

"As  for  Mrs.  Main,  from  the  moment  I  commenced 
to  suspect  her,  I  began  to  find  cause  for  suspicion, 
and  I  learned  to  dread  the  influence  she  was  rapidly 
gaining  over  my  poor  father.  Towards  myself,  her 
conduct  was  in  no  wise  changed,  nor  was  that  of 
Martha,  but  I  saw  through  the  motives  by  which  they 
were  prompted,  and  despised  them,  for  I  knew  that 
the  efforts  they  so  assiduously  made  to  win  my  feel- 
ings, were  only  made  in  dread  of  the  influence  I  had 
over  my  father,  which  both  knew  to  be  paramount. 

"Matters  continued  thus  for  some  six  months, 
when  my  father  one  day  startled  me  by  broaching 
the  subject  of  his  possible  marriage. 

I  knew  at  once  to  whom  he  alluded,  and  remon- 
strated quietly  but  affectionately  ;  I  promised  never 
to  marry,  but  to  remain  always  with  him,  and  care 
for  him,  so  that  he  would  not  miss  the  comforts  of 
his  own  home. 

"  He  kissed  me  laughingly,  and  said  he  was  afraid 
I  was  too  late,  as  he  was  already  under  an  engage- 
ment to  Mrs.  Main,  and  when  he  added  that  the 
wedding  was  to  take  place  within  a  month,  my  heart 


t6         The   Second   M  a  r  r  i  a  g  k  . 

sauk  within  me,  for  I  felt  that  my  happiness  must  be 
the  sacrifice, — and  I  spoke  of  Mrs.  Main  in  prettv 
strong,  and  not  very  flattering  terms.  ♦ 

"  I  do  not  know,  but  I  always  suspected  that  '^^xs. 
Main  had  overheard  our  conversation  on  this  occa- 
sion, but  I  found  from  that  time  a  marked  change  in 
her  conduct  towards  me.  As  my  future  mother,  I 
tried  to  respect  her,  and  sought  now  as  much  to  win 
her  affections,  as  she  had  pretended  to  seek  my  own  ; 
but  she  received  my  advances  with  a  coldness  and 
hauteur  which  I  could  not  penetrate,  and  which 
caused  me  many  bitter  tears,  for  the  prospect  of 
liaving  her  for  a  step-mother  grew  daily  more  and 
more  odious  to  me. 

"  ]\Iartha,  however,  continued  to  treat  me  as  be- 
fore— nay,  if  possible,  more  kindly  and  affectionately. 
She  was  so  gentle,  so  apparently  sincere  in  her  affec- 
tion— so  sisterly  in  her  conduct,  I  looked  upon  her 
as  my  only  friend,  and  to  her  I  confided  all  my  sor- 
rows, and  sought  her  advice  as  to  the  best  means  of 
winning  back  her  mother's  feelings. 

"  Would  you  believe  it.  Doctor,  ever  word  that  I 
uttered  to  that  artful  hypocrite  was  carried  directly 
to  her  mother,  and  I  doubt  not,  with  exaggerations, 
thus  enabling  her  to  gain  a  perfect  insight  into  my 
feelings,  and  to  retain  the  ascendancy  which  she  had 


The  Daughter's  Story. 


11 


gained  over  my  father  by  her  arts,  and  over  me 
through  my  fears. 

"The  month  flew  rapidly  by,  and  my  father  was 
married.  A  few  weeks  afterwards,  finding  his  health 
entirely  estabhshed,  he  removed  to  Xew«York,  bring- 
ing his  family  with  him,  and  followed  by  Kobert 
Barton,  who  continued  his  attentions  to  me,  notwith- 
standing the  repugnance  which  I  had  latterly  evinced 
to  his  presence. 

"  For  a  short  time  after  we  reached  home,  matters 
went  on  so  smoothly,  I  began  to  hope  for  happiness 
again.  My  step-mother  treated  me  kindly,  Martha 
was  all  affection,  and  Robert,  if  not  less  persevering 
in  his  attentions,  had  grown  more  respectful,  and 
had  abated  much  of  his  wonted  famiharity,  so  that  I 
could  at  least  endure  him. 

"My  dear  father  appeared  perfectly  happy,  and 
surely  he  deserved  to  be.  You  know  that  he  is 
wealthy,  and  his  greatest  delight  consisted  in  adding 
to  the  comfort  and  happiness  of  his  family.  He 
was,  so  far  as  Mattie  and  I  were  concerned,  perfectly 
impartial,  never  making  a  present,  no  matter  whether 
small  or  large,  to  the  one  unless  the  other  received 
its  counterpart.  iSo  distinction  was  ever  made  be- 
tween us,  at  home  or  abroad. 

"A  few  months  of  comparative  happiness  soon 


18        The  Second  Marriage. 

wore  away,  when  suddenly  a  change  came  over  the 
whole  tenor  of  my  life. 

"Robert  Barton,  whose  continued  attentions  to 
me  (for  he  had  thus  far  been  an  inmate  of  our 
family  at  my  father's  request)  had  attracted  tlie 
notice  not  only  of  my  father,  who  frequently  hinted 
at  them  in  a  laughing  manner,  but  of  visitors  to  the 
house,  suddenly  assumed  an  air  of  rude  familiarity 
which  disgusted  me.  He  sought  every  possible  oc- 
casion to  be  alone  with  me  ;  and  almost  invariably 
when  thus  placed,  Mattie  or  her  mother  was  sure  to 
enter  the  room,  which  they  instantly  left  with  a  half- 
concealed  laugh. 

"From  familiarity  he  grew  to  absolute  rudeness  ; 
and  on  one  occasion,  when  he  uttered  some  remarks 
which  were  insulting  beyond  forbearance,  I  so  far  for 
got  myself  as  to  spit  in  his  face,  and  ordered  him 
never  again  to  venture  to  address  me. 

"Slowly  and  deliberately  he  left  the  room,  but 
turned  to  me,  and  said,  '  Cora  Evarts,  to  the  latest 
hour  of  your  life  you  sliall  repent  this.' 

"  The  same  day  lie  left  the  house  suddenly,  and  I 
saw  no  more  of  him,  nor  did  I  even  inquire  after 
him.  Alas  !  I  httle  knew  then  how  capable  he  was 
of  fulfilling  his  threat  ;  and  how  terribly  he  has  kept 
his  promise  ! 


The  Daughter's  Story. 


19 


"  From  that  hour  an  entire  change  came  over  Mrs. 
Evarts — I  cannot  call  her  mother — she  was  not  only 
cold  to  freezing,  but  she  was  insolently  haughty, 
while  Mattie  followed  directly  in  his  mother's  foot- 
steps. I  was  treated  by  both  of  them  more  as  a 
menial  than  the  daughter  of  her  husband,  to  whom 
both  owed  all  they  had  on  earth,  and  I  vainly  sought 
for  some  explanation  of  their  extraordinary  con- 
duct. 

"  If  I  spoke  to  Mrs.  Evarts,  she  turned  from  me 
with  freezing  coldness,  hoping  sarcastically  that  my 
own  heart  and  conscience  could  not  give  me  any  satis- 
factory reply.  Mattie  absolutely  refused  to  hold 
communion  with  me,  and  even  my  dear  father  spoke 
to  me  at  times  with  a  harshness  of  manner  which 
drew  tears  to  my  eyes. 

"  In  vain  I  endeavored  to  find  in  my  past  conduct 
some  cause  for  this  change.  I  reviewed  my  course 
since  my  father's  marriage,  but  could  find  nothing  to 
condemn. 

"  This  state  of  things  continued  some  weeks,  until 
my  spirits  and  health  were  so  visibly  afi'ected,  my 
father  could  not  help  noticing  the  change  in  me  ;  and 
on  one  occasion,  when  we  were  alone,  and  I  saw  that 
he  was  looking  at  me  with  on  air  of  affectionate 
compassion,  I  threw  myself  on  his  bosom,  and  begged 


80 


The   Second  Marriage. 


him,  for  the  love  he  used  to  bear  me,  to  tell  me  what 
had  Caused  this  dreadful  change. 

He  colored,  stammered,  hesitated,  and  pressing 
me  to  his  heart  with  a  sigh,  promised  to  give  me  an 
explanation  at  the  earhest  moment  ;  and  without 
affording  me  an  opportunity  of  saying  another  word, 
he  left  the  room. 

"  On  that  same  evening,  while  we  w^ere  at  tea,  I 
noticed  an  air  of  constraint  on  the  part  of  my  father, 
so  foreign  to  him,  I  could  not  keep  down  the  pre- 
sentiment of  coming  evil ;  and  when  he  bade  me  go 
into  the  library,  and  await  his  coming,  my  heart  sank 
within  me,  and  I  was  in  no  wise  reassured  when  I 
noticed  the  contemptuous  glances  cast  upon  me  by 
Mattie  and  her  mother.  I  trembled  with  apprehen- 
sion, as  I  entered  the  library  where  my  father  was 
seated. 

As  I  met  his  cold,  stern  gaze,  I  could  no  longer 
restrain  my  feelings,  but  bursting  into  tears,  I  sank 
into  the  nearest  chair.  My  father  uttered  no  word 
until  he  saw  that  I  was  more  composed  ;  then  rising, 
he  approached  me,  and  simply  asked,  '  Do  you  know 
where  Robert  Barton  is  V 

"This  question,  so  sudden,  so  unexpected,  so  for- 
eign to  my  thoughts  at  that  moment,  took  me  com- 
pletely by  surprise,  and  fairly  stupefied  me.    I  could 


The   Daughter's   Story.  81 

not  imagine  liis  object  in  asking  such  a  question,  and 
I  felt  that  my  cheeks  and  brow  were  crimsoned  as  I 
answered,  '  No,  father,  I  do  not.' 

"My  hesitation,  my  evident  confusion,  and  my 
blushes,  all  told  against  me,  and  he  put  his  own  con- 
struction upon  them. 

"  He  evidently  attributed  them  to  guilt,  for  with  a 
sternness,  which  in  his  worst  mood  I  had  never  be- 
fore witnessed,  he  said,  '  Then  it  is  true,  and  my 
daughter  has  disgraced  herself  and  her  father.' 

"  Doctor,  I  dare  not  recount  what  was  said  to  me 
on  that  occasion  by  my  unhappy  and  deceived  father. 
He  accused  me  of  having  disgraced  myself  with 
Robert  Barton,  of  having  actually  thrown  myself 
away  upon  him,  and  he,  woukl  you  believe  it.  Doctor, 
my  own  father,  actually  told  me,  that  Barton,  sooner 
than  continue  thus  to  injiu-e  and  disgrace  one  to 
whom  he  was  under  so  many  obligations,  had  decided  ' 
to  leave  the  house  and  the  city.  I  need  not  tell  you 
that  I  denied  the  charges  with  all  the  vehemence  of 
'  conscious  and  injured  mnocence  ;  but  to  no  avail. 
My  father  was  convinced  of  their  truth,  and  finally,  in 
answer  to  my  most  impassioned  appeals,  declared 
that  his  wife  had  the  most  irrefragable  proofs  of  my 
guilt. 

"  At  the  mention  of  that  name,  I  felt  that  I  was 
4* 


82         The   S  e  c  o  nm)  Marriage. 

lost  indeed,  for  I  knew  too  well  her  power  and  her 
malignity,  from  past  and  bitter  experience.  But  I 
felt  my  courage  rise  with  the  emergency,  and  I  im- 
plored him  that  I  might  be  allowed  to  confront  her. 
I  denied  with  all  the  earnestness  of  my  nature  the 
truth  of  any  charge  against  my  integrity  ;  and  I  con- 
jured him  by  the  memory  of  his  deceased  wife,  by 
the  love  which  he  had  borne  me,  and  which  I  felt  I 
had  ever  deserved,  not  to  believe  such  things  possible. 

"  He  merely  replied  coldly,  *  Your  wish  shall  be 
gratified,'  and  rising,  he  rang  the  bell,  and  ordered 
the  servant  to  summon  his  wife.  '  You  shall  have 
every  opportunity,  Cora,  of  clearing  yourself  of  this 
degrading  charge.  Your  mother  has  known  of  the 
circumstances  for  a  long  time,  but  her  respect  for  my 
feelings  has  induced  her  to  withhold  all  mention  of 
them,  until  I  actually  forced  it  from  her.  I  trust  you 
may  be  able  to  clear  yourself  and  me  from  so  foul  a 
stain.' 

Before  I  had  time  to  reply  she  entered,  and  I 
strove  to  catch  her  eye,  but  she  carefully  avoided  it. 

"  '  Here,  Cora,  is  your  mother.' 

"  Oh,  father,  dear  father,  can  you  call  her  my 
mother  ?  Can  you  utter  that  word  at  such  a  time  as 
this  ?  Can  you  call  her  my  mother,  who  would  tra- 
duce me  to  my  own  father  ? 

«• 


The   Daughter's   Story.  83 

" '  Silence,  Cora,  I  will  not  hear  such  language. 
She  has  behaved  throughout  this  whole  afifair  with  a 
spirit  of  Christian  charity  and  forbearance  for  which 
I  cannot  too  much  honor  her.  Now,  if  you  have 
any  thing  to  say,  she  is  prepared  to  hear  it.' 

" '  Oh,  Mr.  Evarts,'  said  his  wife,  with  well- 
affected  sorrow  and  humility,  'do  spare  me — let  it 
pass  ;  indeed,  I  do  not  wish  to  become  the  accuser 
of  your  daughter.  Heaven  knows  how  I  have  loved 
her,  and  striven  to  act  a  mother's  part  to  her.  I  did 
not  wish  to  say  anything  of  this  unhappy  affair — you 
know  I  did  not,  and  would  not,  until  you  forced  it 
from  me.' 

"  '  I  know  my  dear — I  know  I  did,  and  can  only 
regret  from  my  heart  that  you  are  placed  in  this  unhap- 
py position.  This,  however,  is  no  time  for  mere  person- 
al regrets.  Cora  has  demanded  to  be  confronted  with 
you,  and  defied  you  to  prove  the  charges  against 
her.' 

" '  Heaven  knows,  my  dear  husband,'  said  the 
viper,  who  had  not  yet  dared  to  look  me  in  the  face, 
and  wiping  the  crocodile  tear  from  her  eyes,  '  heaven 
knows  how  deeply  I  deplore  this  unhappy  affair. 
But  my  love  for  you,  and  my  reverence  for  your 
character  is  too  great  to  permit  any  personal  feelings 
to  weigh  with  me  against  them.    These  are  my 


84         The   Second  Marriage. 

proofs/  and  she  handed  to  my  father  a  small  pack- 
age of  letters,  '  and  Martha/  she  added,  '  I  am  soiTy 
to  say,  has  been  acquainted  with  her  conduct  from 
the  first.' 

"  *  Call  Martha/  said  my  father,  opening  one  of 
the  letters,  which  having  hastily  glanced  over,  he 
handed  to  me,  and  I  seized  it  eagerly. 

"  While  striving  to  make  out  its  contents,  for  my 
eyes  were  streaming  with  tears,  Mattie  entered  the 
room  and  took  shelter  behind  her  mother,  so  that  I 
could  not  look  her  in  the  face. 

"  I  dare  not.  Doctor,  repeat  the  contents  of  that 
letter.  In  it,  the  villain  Barton  had  the  infamy  to 
declare,  that  he  left  the  house  because  I  had  actually 
thrown  myself  into  his  arms,  and  had  voluntarily 
offered  to  sacrifice  my  honor  to  my  passion  for  him. 
That  I  had  offered  to  marry  him  if  he  would  aid  me 
in  bringing  about  a  separation  between  my  father 
and  his  wife  ;  and  that  shocked  at  my  proposals,  and 
dreading  to  be  the  means  of  bringing  infamy  and  re- 
proach upon  one  to  whom  he  was  under  so  many 
obligations,  he  preferred  to  take  the  only  course  left 
to  him,  and  absent  himself  from  the  society  of  a 
woman  whose  passion  for  him  rose  superior  to  "her 
duty,  her  honor,  her  affection  for  her  parents,  or  her 
self-respect. 


The    Daughter's   Story.  85 

"  I  was  so  utterly  dumbfounded  at  the  perusal  of 
this  infamous  letter,  I  could  say  nothing,  but  turned 
from  one  to  the  other  in  stupid  amazement. 

"  '  Do  you  require  further  proof,  Mr.  Evarts,'  said 
his  wife  with  mock  humility,  '  Martha  and  myself, 
have  frequently  seen  them  in  ' 

"  Stop — one  moment — let  me  say  one  -word,*'  I  ex- 
claimed, dashing  away  my  tears,  and  approaching 
!Mrs.  Evarts,  who  retreated  to  the  farther  corner  of 
the  room,  closely  followed  by  Mattie,  as  if  she  appre- 
hended personal  violence  from  me. 

"  '  Kot  one  word,  Cora,  unless  to  disprove  the  truth 
of  that  letter,'  said  my  father. 

Xot  one  word,  father,  and  this  to  your  only  child  ? 
Oh  father,  by  the  memory  of  my  dear  mother,  by  the 
memory  of  the  happiness  which  was  ours,  before  that 
serpent  entered  our  paradise,  I  conjure  you  to  listen 
to  me.  That  vile,  canting  hy]30crite — that  woman 
whose  life  is  made  up  of  artfulness  and  lies — 
that  " 

'"I  will  not  hear  such  language,  Cora,  it  is  not  the 
proper  way  to  meet  charges  so  clearly  proved.  Con- 
fess your  guilt  ' 

"  Oh,  father,"  I  could  only  say,  in  tones  which  must 
have  reached  Lis  heart,  had  it  not  been  steeled 


86         The   Second  Marriage. 

against  me  by  his  wife's  fiendish  machinations  ;  but  he 
would  not  hsten. 

"  '  Now  hsten  to  me,  Cora.  You  have  accused  my 
wife  of  plotting  against  you,  when  her  sole  object  has 
been  to  serve  you,  and  save  me  from  the  disgrace  you 
have  brought  upon  me  ' 

"  I  repeat  it/''  I  exclaimed,  stung  to  the  heart — 
"she  has  plotted  against  me — she  has  sought  to  un- 
dermine me  in  your  affections — she  has  sought  to 
win  your  heart  from  me,  for  the  base  purpose  of  se- 
curing to  herself  and  daughter,  that  wealth  which 
she  knew  was  rightfully  my  own, 

"  Oh,  Cora — Cora,"  exclaimed  his  wife,  feigning 
the  deepest  emotion,  and  wiping  her  eyes,  "  how  can 
you  say  so  ?  Have  I  not  ever  acted  a  mother's  part 
towards  you  ?  Have  I  not  ever  been  kind  and  affec- 
tionate ?  Have  I  not  treated  you  as  my  own 
child  V 

"  '  Can  you  deny  that,  Cora,'  said  my  father. 

"  Oh,  my  father,  can  you  hear  this  against  your 
own,  your  only  child  ? 

"  '  Would  to  Heaven  I  had  no  cause,'  he  replied, 
much  moved. 

" '  It  is  a  sad  thing  for  me  to  feel  that  one  on 
whom  my  hopes  and  affections  have  been  so  fixed, 
should  prove  so  unworthy — should  bring  shame  to 


The  Daughter's   Story.  87 

herself  and  disgrace  to  her  doating  father.  Cora, 
there  is  but  one  course  left — confess  your  guilt — 
acknowledge  your  sorrow  for  the  past,  and  vile  as  has 
been  your  conduct,  if  your  mother  consents  to  over- 
look it,  I  will—' 

"  '  Of  course,  I  wilV  said  Mrs.  Evarts.  '  God 
forbid  that  I  should  be  the  unhappy  means  of 
separating  a  father  from  his  only  child — I  have  one 
of  my  own,  and  thank  God,  I  have  a  parent's 

feelings  ' 

Never — so  help  me  Heaven,  never,"  I  exclaimed, 
with  energy,  for  every  feeling  was  now  thoroughly 
aroused.  ''Never — I  would  beg,  starve,  or  die 
first.  Father,  I  am  innocent ;  I  am  as  worthy  of 
your  love,  as  I  was  the  hour  you  sacrificed  your 
happiness  and  mine  to  the  arts  of  that  infamous 
woman.  She  is  guilty — she  it  is  who  should  in  the 
very  dust  crave  my  pardon  for  the  wrong  she  has 
done  to  me.  But  mark  me,  father,  she  will  as  surely 
reach  her  reward,  as  there  is  a  just  God  above  us. 
He  will  never  suffer  the  innocent  to  fall  before  such 
art  and  lies.  Perhaps  not  until  she  has  driven  me 
into  the  grave,  but  it  will  surely  come,  and  deep 
will  be  the  retribution  which  Heaven  will  visit  on 
her." 

"  *  Oh,  Cora  I'  exclaimed  his  wife,  '  how  can  yon 


88 


The    Second  Marriage. 


talk  so  of  me  ?  If  you  knew  what  I  had  suflfered 
since  the  discovery  of  your  ' 

"  *  Silence  !'  I  said,  in  tones  that  caused  her  to 
start  back  in  aflfright,  '  you  vile,  polluted,  polluting 
thing — silence  !  Your  aim  is  accomplished,  your 
end  is  attained  for  the  present,  but  your  punishment 
will  come.  And  now,  father,  what  am  I  to  do  V  I 
said,  turning  to  hun  with  forced  calmness. 

'"Do  you  refuse  to  ask  your  mother's  pardon  for 
the  Tile  insinuations  you  have  made  V 

"  '  Oh,  do  not  insist  on  that,  Mr.  Evarts,'  said  his 
wife,  with  well-feigned  earnestness  ;  '  I  forgive  her. 
Heaven  knows  I  do,  from  my  heart,  for  the  unjust 
suspicions  she  cherishes  against  myself.' 

"-'But  I  do  insist,'  said  my  father,  and  well  she 
knew  that  he  would. 

"  '  Father,  I  cannot — I  will  not,  though  I  die  for 
it — I  will  not  so  wrong  you  and  myself.' 

"'Then  this  house  is  no  longer  your  home, 
Cora.' 

"  '  Oh,  dear  husband,'  said  his  wife,  '  this  must  not 
be — this  shall  not  be.  Rather  let  me  go,  for  I  have 
been  the  cause  of  this  unhappy  scene,  and  Heaven 
knows  how  unwillingly,'  and  again  her  tears  flowed 
freely. 

"'Cora,'  said  my  father,  without  heedmg  her, 


f 


The   Daughter's  Story.  89 

'  you  liaye  heard  my  conditions,  are  you  prepared  to 
comply  with  them  V 

"  'Though  I  should  die  here  at  your  feet,  father. 
I  would  not.' 

"  '  Then  we  must  part.  Had  you  exhibited  any 
signs  of  contrition  for  your  guilt,  so  plainly  proven, 
I  could  have  overlooked  every  thing  in  pity  for  you  ; 
but  your  conduct  now,  shows  that  you  are  lost  to 
all  feeling  of  self-respect  or  shame.  Henceforth  you 
are  no  more  my  daughter.' 

"  '  Oh,  father  !'  I  exclaimed,  sinking  on  my  knees 
before  him,  '  do  not  discard  me  thus,  and  with  such 
feelings.  As  I  stand  before  my  God,  I  am  utterly 
innocent  of  a  single  charge  brought  against  me.  We 
are  the  victims  of  a  deep-laid  plot.' 

"  '  I  will  not  hear  those  words  again.  You  have 
refused  to  adopt  the  course  I  pointed  out,  and  must 
abide  the  consequences.  You  shall  not  want,  Cora, 
but  here  you  cannot  remain.  I  will  see  that  due 
provision  is  made  for  you.' 

"'No,  father,  no.  I  must  either  live  here  with 
you,  as  your  child,  worthy  of  your  love,  or  I  must  go 
alone  and  uncarcd  for,  unprotected.  God  will  pro- 
vide for  me,  for  I  could  not  receive  any  thing  from  a 
parent  who  denies  to  his  only  child,  simple  justice. 
The  hour  will  come  when  your  heart  will  ache  with 


Jt 

90         The   Second  Marriage. 

bitter  sorrow,  as  you  are  made  to  feel  the  wrong  you 
have  done  to  your  innocent,  unoffending  child.  As 
for  you,  madam,'  and  I  turned  to  Mrs.  Evarts — 

'Spare  your  ^-eproaches  to  her,'  said  my  father, 
'  she  has  only  discharged  a  sacred  duty  which  she 
owed  to  me  as  a  wife,  and  to  you  as  a  mother.  I 
honor  and  approve  her  course  from  first  to  last. 
You  have  made  your  own  choice,  and  you  must 
abide  by  it.' 

"  '  Father,  dear  father  !  do  you  mean  to  turn  me 
from  your  home  and  heart  thus  rudely  V 

"'Cora,  it  is  your  own  work — you  have  sinned 
deeply.  Had  you  but  acknowledged  your  fault,  I 
could  have  taken  you  again  to  my  heart,  and  called 
you  what  you  have  ever  been  to  me,  my  daughter  ; 
but  now — ' 

" '  Oh,  Mr.  Evarts — dear  husband,'  interrupted 
his  wife,  'do  not  go  to  such  extremes.  Do  not,  I 
pray  you,  compel  me  to  feel  that  my  affection  for 
you  has  wrought  this  misery.  Oh,  I  wish  to  Heaven 
I  had  never  seen  you  !'  and  sinking  into  a  chair,  the 
vile  hypocrite  covered  her  face  with  her  handkerchief, 
and  shed  copious  tears. 

"  This  had  precisely  the  effect  upon  which  she  had 
calculated.  The  more  she  interceded  for  me,  the 
more  obstinate  my  father  became  ;  for,  deceived  by 


The   Daughter's   Story.  91 

her  tears  aud  her  well-feigu^ed  sorrow,  he  was  so 
bhiided  he  could  not  distinguish  truth  from  false- 
hood." 

While  Mrs.  Marvin  had  beea^  engaged  in  this 
narrative,  little  Clarence,  who  had  been  playing 
about  unnoticed,  wearied  of  being  left  to  himself, 
had  crept  upon  the  bed,  and  had  fallen  fast  asleep. 

The  fond  mother,  perceiving  his  position,  and 
blushing  at  the  thought  that  she  had  been  so  inter- 
ested in  herself  as  to  forget  him,  hastily  arose,  and 
having  placed  him  in  an  easy  posture,  aud  covered 
him  up,  resumed  her  seat  and  continued  her  narrative. 


CHAPTER  YIII. 


THE  daughter's  STORY  CONCLUDED. 

"  I  BEGGED  and  implored  my  father,"  she  continued, 
"to  examine  for  himself — to  institute  thorough  in- 
quiries, and  not  to  trust  to  evidence  so  uncertain  in 
condemnation  of  his  own  daughter  ;  but  Mrs.  Evarts 
was  prepared  for  this,  for  she  had  tutored  two  of  the 
servants,  John  and  Julia,  so  well,  that  when  sum- 
moned by  her,  they  stated,  in  the  most  positive 
terms,  the  most  infamous  stories  concerning  my  inter- 
views with  Mr.  Barton. 

"  1  saw  through  the  plot,  but  was  unable  to  de- 
fend myself,  except  by  my  protestations,  and  they 
availed  nothing  against  the  lies  and  perjuries  brought 
against  me. 

"  To  be  brief.  Doctor,  for  I  have  detained  you  too 
long  already,  let  it  sufiBce  to  know  that  my  father, 
without  shedding  one  tear,  and  so  far  as  I  could  per- 
ceive, without  a  sigh  of  regret,  suffered  me  to  leave 
his  house  alone,  unprotected  and  penniless,  for  I 
resolutely  refused  to  receive  any  thing  from  him,  so 


The   Daughter's   Story.  93 

long  as  he  deemed  me  to  be  so  unworthy  of  his  affec- 
tion, and  could  believe  me  guilty  of  the  vile  charges 
brought  against  me,  to  the  ruin  of  my  own  character, 
and  the  destruction  of  his  peace  and  happiness. 

"  I  found  lodgings  at  once  with  a  kind-hearted  old 
lady,  a  friend  of  our  family,  who  having  known  me 
from  my  infancy,  would  not  give  credit  to  the  vile 
slanders  against  me,  and  from  her  I  received  every 
care  and  attention.  She  had  predicted  trouble  from 
the  moment  she  heard  of  my  father's  second  mar- 
riage, and  was  well  assured  that  the  whole  was  a 
plot  of  his  new  wife's,  concocted  to  wean  my  father's 
love  from  me,  and  thus  secure  for  her  own  daughter 
my  portion  of  his  fortune. 

''Robert  Barton  had  the  insolence  to  call  on  me, 
as  soon  as  he  could  ascertain  where  I  had  gone,  and 
made  to  me  the  most  infamous  proposals,  which  I 
need  not  say,  Doctor,  were  rejected  with  the  scorn 
they  merited  ;  but  he  had  the  audacity  to  threaten 
that  I  should  see  the  day  when  I  would  be  glad  to 
have  him  renew  them. 

"I  remained  some  four  or  five  months  with  Mrs. 
Edmonds,  when  I  was  one  day  surprised  by  a  visit  from 
my  present  husband.  He  was  a  young  man  •  of  re- 
spectable parents,  who  had  visited  occasionally  at  our 
house,  and  who  had  always  exhibited  a  marked  pre- 


94         The   Second  Marriage. 

ference  for  me.  Having  chosen  the  sea  as  his  pro- 
fession, I  did  not  see  him  very  often,  but  was  always 
favorably  impressed  with  his  frank,  manly  deport- 
ment, and  was  pleased  with  his  evident  admiration 
of  myself,  which  he  made  no  attempt  to  conceal. 

"  He  had  found  me  out,  somehow  ;  I  believe 
through  one  of  the  servants,  who  had  always  liked 
me,  and  who  told  him  as  much  as  she  knew  of  the 
occurrences  which  drove  me  from  my  father's  house. 

"The  change  in  my  position  and  circumstances 
had  made  no  change  in  his  affection  for  me,  and  at 
length  I  yielded  to  his  entreaties,  and  became  his 
wife.  He  was  a  fond  and  devoted  husband,  and 
though  he  was  as  poor  as  myself,  I  felt  proud  of  his 
honest,  disinterested  love,  and  have  striven  to  make 
him  as  happy  as  I  could.  As  soon  as  we  were  mar- 
ried, he  proceeded  to  my  father's,  and  producing  the 
wedding  certificate,  sought  to  obtain  his  renewal  of 
the  intercourse  with  me  ;  but  my  father  insulted  him 
by  congratulating  him  on  his  marriage  with  a  woman 
of  such  exalted  character  as  myself,  and  refused  - 
absolutely  ever  to  acknowledge  me  as  his  daughter, 
unless  I  would  confess  my  guilt  and  ask  pardon  of 
his  wife. 

"  To  this,  of  course,  my  husband  had  but  one  reply 
to  make,  and  from  that  time  forward  no  communica- 


The  Daughter's  Story.  95 

tion  of  any  kind  has  passed  between  my  father  and 
myself.  Indeed,  I  did  not  know,  until  you  told  me. 
Doctor,  that  he  ever  gave  me  a  thought. 

"We  prepared  then  to  face  the  world  and  its 
sorrows  with  courageous  hearts,  and  as  I  loved  him 
truly  and  devotedly,  I  was  ready  to  share  his  lot,  no 
matter  where  it  might  be  cast. 

"Soon  after  my  marriage,  my  husband  went  to 
sea,  and  during  his  absence,  Clarence  was  born.  On 
his  next  voyage  he  was  made  second  mate  of  the 
vessel  on  board  which  he  now  is,  and  which  has  been 
gone  nearly  twelve  months.  I  do  not  expect  him 
home  for  a  year  to  come,  as  he  is  on  a  trading  voy- 
age, and  the  half-pay  which  he  left  for  my  support 
has  been  cut  short  for  some  months  by  the  failure  of 
the  firm  owning  the  vessel  in  which  he  sailed.  He 
does  not  know  of  my  present  position,  for  from  the 
character  of  the  voyage,  he  could  not  let  me  know 
where  to  dii'ect  his  letters.  However,  I  do  not 
doubt  that  I  shall  get  on  until  he  does  return,  and 
as  he  expects  to  command  a  vessel  on  his  next  voy- 
age, and  has  promised  to  take  me  with  him,  I  shall 
try  and  make  myself  contented  until  he  comes  home. 

"  And  now,  Doctor,  you  know  every  thing.  I 
have  given  you  a  true  narrative  of  the  causes  which 
placed  me,  the  daughter  of  the  wealthy  ^Ir.  Evarts, 


96 


The  Second  Marriage 


as  you  have  found  her.  1  do  uot  doubt  that  you 
have  beeu  warned  to  beware  of  me,  and  of  my  arts  ; 
that  you  have  been  told  I  am  a  vile,  deceitful  woman, 
unworthy  of  your  kindness  or  your  sympathy  ;  but, 
as  I  stand  before  Heaven,  I  have  told  you  but  the 
simple  truth.  I  have  uot  told  you  all  I  have  been 
compelled  to  bear  and  suffer  since  the  failure  of  the 
firm  from  whom  I  received  my  husband's  half-pay  ; 
that  was  not  necessary.  You  have  heard  my  his- 
tory ;  judge  now  for  yourself,  if  you  can  believe  me 
worthy  of  the  epithets  conferred  on  me." 

"  Mrs.  Marvin,"  I  said,  as  she  concluded — and 
with  an  earnestness  which  must  have  carried  con- 
viction of  my  sincerity — I  believe  every  word  you 
have  said.  You  have  been  infamously  belied,  and 
cruelly  abused  and  insulted  ;  but  with  you,  I  cannot 
but  feel  that  brighter  hours  will  come.  A  just 
Providence  will  never  suffer  such  wickedness  to  go 
unpunished,  and  in  time  your  triumph  over  your 
enemies  will  be  complete.  That  you  have  been 
made  the  victim  of  a  foul,  disgraceful  plot,  and 
from  mere  mercenary  motives,  I  think  painfully  evi- 
dent ;  but  how  your  father  could  have  been  induced 
to  join  in  it  against  you — how  he  could  be  per- 
suaded to  condemn  his  only  child — is  past  my  com- 
prehension." 


The  DAtJGHTER's  Story.  91 

"  Oil,  Doctor,"  she  replied,  "  you  little  know  the 
artful  character  of  his  wife.  While  feigning  the 
deepest  affection  for  him,  she  was  secretly  plotting 
against  his  happiness  and  my  peace.  Her  whole 
aim  has  been  to  secure  for  Martha  that  fortune 
which  my  poor  father,  I  know,  would  gladly  have 
divided  between  us  ;  and,  Heaven  knows,  she  would 
have  been  welcome  to  my  share  if  she  had  let  me 
alone,  and  suffered  me  to  remain,  as  I  was,  happy 
in  the  consciousness  of  my  father's  love. 

"  And  now,  my  dear,  kind  friend,  you  must  par- 
don me  that  I  have  made  you  the  recipient  of  this 
unhappy  domestic  narrative.  I  would  not  have  done 
so,  but  for  the  conviction  that  Mrs.  Evarts  had  es- 
sayed to  instil  prejudices  against  me  into  your  mind, 
and  to  deprive  me  of  so  true  a  friend  as  you  have 
proved.  I  am  truly  grateful  for  your  past  kindness, 
and  could  not  bear  the  thought  that  you  might 
deem  me  so  unworthy  of  it  as  I  had  been  repre- 
sented." 

*'  I  thank  you  for  the  confidence  placed  in  my 
friendship.  I  wish — nay,  I  intend — to  serve  you. 
Now,  answer  me  a  few  questions.  "Where  are  John 
and  Julia,  those  servants  of  whom  you  spoke,  to  be 
found  ?" 

"  John  is  married,  and  is  only  at  father's  during 
5 


98        The  Second  Marriage. 

the  day-time  ;  he  resided  somewhere  in  the  upper 
part  of  the  city.  I  do  not  know  if  he  is  still  in  the 
family.  Juha  was  brought  from  the  south  by  Mrs. 
Evarts,  and  is  never  in  attendance  on  any  one  but 
her  ;  so  I  doubt  if  you  have  ever  seen  her. 

John,  I  have  never  seen  ;  perhaps  she  has 
thought  it  wisest  to  get  him  out  of  the  way.  Julia 
may  be  reached  somehow  ;  I'll  try  and  manage 
that.  Now,  as  to  that]  scoundrel  Barton,  have 
you  any  idea  where  he  is  to  be  found  ?" 

"  I  have,  as  I  said,  scarcely  heard  of  him,  since 
he  called  to  make  those  infamous  proposals  which  I 
mentioned.  I  did  hear  that  he  had  resumed  his 
visits  to  my  father's,  probably  with  a  view  to  an 
union  with  Mattie,  now  she  is  to  become  his  heiress. 
He  has  been  to  Europe,  too  ;  but  whether  he  has 
returned  or  not,  I  do  not  know.  I  scarcely  thmk 
he  has,  or  you  would  surely  have  met  him  there." 

"  One  thing  more.  Have  you  the  order  for  the 
half-pay  left  by  your  husband  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  it  is  in  my  trunk."  And  rising,  she  un- 
locked it,  and  handed  the  paper  to  me. 

"  Trust  this  with  me  for  a  few  days.  I  will  find 
out  the  assignees  of  B.  &  W.,  the  owners,  and  I 
doubt  not  they  will  cheerfully  pay  such  a  claim, 
especially  when  I  tell  them  how  much  you  stand 


The  Daughter's  Story.  99 

in  need  of  it.  Now,  this  money  from  your  fa- 
ther ?" 

I  would  not  touch  one  cent  of  it,  knowing  the 
circumstances  under  which  it  was  sent,  if  I  were 
starving.  Give  it  back  to  him  in  any  manner  you 
choose." 

"  Well,  you  are  right,  perhaps.  You  may  not 
see  me  again  for  two  or  three  days  ;  but,  bear  in 
mind,  that  I  shall  be  working  for  you.  Trust  im- 
phcitly  in  me,  and,  my  word  for  it,  you  will  see 
happier  days."  And,  after  having  received  renewed 
expression  of  her  gratitude  for  my  kindness,  I  took 
my  leave. 

"  I  felt,  as  I  left  the  house,  that  she  was  an  in- 
jured, maligned,  and  persecuted  woman ;  and  I 
determined,  if  it  was  within  the  range  of  possibiUty, 
to  see  her  restored  to  her  rights.  How  that  was 
to  be  accomplished,  I  had  no  idea  ;  but  there  was 
within  me  a  presentiment  of  coming  good,  which  I 
encouraged,  but  for  which  I  could  not  account, 
except  that,  perhaps,  the  wish  was  father  to  the 
thought." 


*■ 


CHAPTER  IX. 

THE  orphan's  adventure. 

Turn  we  now  to  Julia  Seaton  and  her  friend 
Helen  Lee. 

Some  three  months,  perhaps,  before  her  mother's 
death,  there  occurred  an  episode  in  the  life  of  JuHa, 
which  is  so  directly  connected  with  this  narrative,  it 
should  properly  have  been  named  before.  For  the 
omission  the  reader  ^^ill  pardon  me. 

She  had  been  down  town  with  a  bundle  of  vests 
which  her  mother  and  herself  had  completed,  and 
was  on  her  return  home  with  a  small  parcel  of  new 
work. 

At  the  junction  of  Broadway  and  Grand  street, 
she  was  in  the  act  of  stepping  off  the  curb-stone, 
when  she  felt  herself  seized  by  the  arm,  and  drawn 
violently  back  upon  the  pavement. 

Before  she  had  time  even  to  think,  a  baker's 
wagon,  driven  at  a  furious  pace,  dashed  by,  and  then 
she  saw  the  danger  from  which  slie  had  been  rescued, 
for  another  step  must  have  put  her  life  at  hazard  ; 


The  Orphan's  Adventure.  101 

and  she  felt  that  she  had  been  preserved  from  the 
most  imminent  danger  by  some  unknown  hand  ;  for, 
even  as  it  was,  the  wheel  of  the  cart  grazed  her 
dress,  and  left  the  mud-stains  on  it. 

Trembhng  with  excitement,  she  turned  to  thank  her 
preserver,  and  her  eyes  met  those  of  a  tall,  fine  look- 
ing young  man,  some  four  or  five  and  twenty  years 
of  age,  who  still  held  her  arm,  and  who,  as  she 
turned,  dropped  his  hand  from  her  arm,  and  raising 
his  hat,  politely,  and  with  great  respect,  said,  "  I 
hope,  miss,  you  will  excuse  my  rudeness,  but  really  I 
had  no  time  for  ceremony  then." 

"  I  am  too  thankful  for  your  kindness  and  appre- 
ciate your  bravery  too  highly  to  require  any  apology. 
From  my  heart,  I  thank  you  sir  and  she  extended 
her  hand  with  candid  frankness  and  sincerity  to  him 
whom  she  looked  upon  as  her  preserver. 

"Take  my  arm  a  few  moments,  miss,"  he  said, 
"you  are  weak  from  fright,  and  tremble  very  much  ; 
let  me  assist  you  until  you  recover  yourself  a  little 
and  he  tendered  his  arm  so  courteously,  that  Juha, 
who  really  needed  some  support,  could  not  refuse, 
and  placing  her  arm  within  his  own,  she  moved  slowly 
on,  pondering  how  she  could  again  express  her 
thanks  for  her  companion's  politeness  and  gallantry. 

"  Allow  me  to  take  that  bundle,"  he  said,  at  the 


102 


The   Second  Marriage. 


same  time  taking  from  her  reluctant  hand  the  small 
parcel  she  was  carrying,  ''now,  lean  on  me  ;  really, 
you  tremble  so,  you  require  some  support ;  do  not  be 
afraid." 

Julia  had  not  yet  fully  recovered  her  consciousness, 
and  silently  walked  on,  pale,  and  trembling  in  every 
limb. 

Her  companion  strove  to  divert  her  thoughts  from 
the  danger  she  had  incurred,  and  conversed  rather  at, 
than  with  her  for  some  time,  she  answering  only  in 
monosyllables,  but  by  the  time  they  had  walked  some 
four  or  five  blocks,  she  had  recovered  her  strength  and 
composure,  and  was  enabled  at  last  to  understand 
where  she  was,  and  what  was  said  to  her. 

She  was  walking  arm-in-arm  with  a  handsome, 
fashionably-dressed  young  man,  who  was  striving  to 
interest  her  by  his  conversation,  and  certainly  it 
seemed  to  her  that  she  had  never  heard  any  one  con- 
verse so  fluently  or  so  pleasantly. 

It  was  not  long  before  Julia  almost  forgot  the 
danger  she  had  incurred  in  the  interest  she  took  in 
the  conversation  of  her  companion,  who  strove  to 
make  her  feel  at  ease,  and  appeared  to  take  an  in- 
terest in  her.  He  spoke  of  almost  every  subject  but 
himself,  and  drew  from  her  a  brief  history  of  her 


The  Orphan's  Adventure.  103 

position  and  circumstances,  and  before  she  knew  it, 
so  rapidly  and  pleasantly  had  the  time  passed  in  the 
society  of  her  companion,  she  was  at  her  own  door. 

Quietly  dropping  his  arm,  (and  she  blushed  at  the 
thought  that  she  had  held  it  so  long),  ?;he  stretched 
out  her  hand  for  the  parcel,  which  he  still  retained, 
but  instead  of  tendering  it  to  her,  he  took  her  ex- 
tended hand,  as  if  he  had  mistaken  her  motion,  and 
retaining  it  while  he  spoke,  said,  May  I  not  hope 
to  meet  again  one  who  has  interested  me  so 
much  ?" 

Julia,  blushing  and  pleased,  yet  half  doubting,  re- 
pUed,  "I  shall  always  be  happy  to  see  one  to  whom 
I  am  so  much  indebted,  but  my  home  has  no  attract 
tions  for  you." 

I  need  not  your  home  to  attract  me,"  he  said, 
with  a  glance  which  she  could  not  mistake,  and 
which  brought  a  deeper  blush  to  her  cheek  and 
brow. 

"Do  you  often  go  down  town?"  he  said,  changing 
the  current  of  her  thoughts  so  suddenly,  she  answered 
without  a  thought, 

"  Oh  yes  ;  I  go  down  every  Wednesday  afternoon, 
to  take  home  my  work." 

"  Indeed,  and  for  whom  do  you  work 


104       The   Second  Marriage. 

"  For  Mr.  ,  in  Broadway." 

"  Oh,  thank  you  ;  I  shall  be  very  sure  to  see  you  ; 
and  now  one  favor  before  I  leave  you — may  I  know 
your  name  ?" 

"Julia  Seaton,"  she  replied,  her  eyes  sinking  be- 
neath his  burning  glances. 

"  Then,  Miss  Seat  on,  I  wish  you  a  very  good  day 
until  I  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  again,"  and 
pressing  the  hand  which  she  had  unconsciously  suf- 
fered to  remain  within  his  own,  he  turned  and  .left 
her. 

In  a  moment  Julia  was  in  the  house,  ran  up  stairs, 
and  throwing  the  parcel  upon  the  bed,  sank  into  a 
chair  without  stopping  to  take  off"  her  hat,  and  was 
soon  lost  in  a  reverie,  from  which  she  was  only 
awakened  by  the  steam  whistle  of  a  neighboring 
manufactory,  which  warned  her  that  it  was  six 
o'clock.  Fortunately  her  mother  had  that  day  gone 
to  visit  a  sick  friend,  taking  her  work  with  her,  and 
there  was  no  one  to  notice  her  singular  conduct. 

Was  it  possible  ! — she  had  been  nearly  two  hours 
sitting  there  with  her  hat  on.  Who  can  tell  what 
were  her  thoughts,  and  what  fairy  dreams  floated 
through  her  excited  brain  ? 

"I  must  make  up  for  this,"  she  said  to  herself, 


The  Orphan^s  Adventure.  105 

arising  and  going  to  the  little  looking-glass,  which 
showed  a  very  pretty  face  with  a  heightened  color, 
and  eyes  sparkling  with  unwonted  animation,  "  I 
must  make  up  for  this,"  and  undoing  her  bundle  of 
vests,  she  seated  herself  at  her  work,  and  pUed  her 
needle  with  a  zeal  and  industry  unwonted  even  for 
her.  But  ever  and  anon  she  would  pause  in  her 
work,  and  laying  the  garment  on  her  lap,  gave  way 
to  her  thoughts,  and  suddenly  seeming  to  recollect 
herself,  she  would  blush  and  smile,  and  resume  her 
work,  at  which  she  continued  until  the  twilight  set 
in  and  warned  her  to  prepare  for  tea,  for  her  mother 
promised  to  be  at  home  in  season  for  that  meal. 

But,  to  shorten  this  part  of  my  story,  it  is  only 
necessary  to  say,  that  the  young  gentleman  was  par- 
ticular to  be  on  the  look  out  on  the  following  Wed- 
nesday, and  for  many  other  Wednesdays,  until  it  be- 
came a  part  of  her  existence  to  see  him. 

He  was  so  polite — so  attentive — so  respectful,  and 
he  so  evidently  admired  her,  she  could  not  be  in- 
sensible to  hun,  and  step  by  step  she  went  on,  until 
every  feehng  of  her  heart  was  engrossed  by  the 
handsome  stranger  who  had  preserved  her  life. 

She  gave  to  him  her  whole  heart.  She  confided  to 
him  her  history.  She  made  him  the  recipient  of  her 
5* 


106       The   Second  Marriage. 

hopes  and  fears,  her  joys  aud  sorrows,  and  he  sym- 
pathised VN'ith  her  so  warmly  when  she  spoke  of  her 
apprehension  of  losing  her  only  parent,  she  was 
almost  ready  to  fall  down  and  worship  him. 

Matters  continued  thus  until  after  her  mother's 
death,  and  then  his  presence  became  dearer  and  more 
necessary  to  her  than  ever — for  was  she  not  alone  in 
the  world,  and  did  she  not  need  some  one  on  whose 
love  and  sympathy  she  could  lean  ? 

He  said  his  name  was  Robert  Marston — that  he 
was  a  student  at  law,  and  hoped  yet  to  make  his 
share  of  noise  in  the  world,  and  when  he  spoke,  Julia 
felt  that  he  must  m  time  be  a  great  man,  for  in  the 
simplicity  of  her  heart,  she  clothed  him  with  all  the 
attributes  of  goodness  and  greatness  combined. 

As  yet  he  had  never  made  his  appearance  in  her 
house.  He  had  always  some  excuse  for  not  being 
introduced  to  her  mother,  and  the  poor,  fond  fool 
believed  him. 

After  her  mother's  death,  he  continued  to  meet 
her  as  usual,  and  was  more  tender,  more  devoted, 
more  affectionate  than  ever.  He  had,  too,  since  that 
event,  spoken  more  plainly  of  his  intentions — which 
were,  as  soon  as  he  was  admitted  to  the  bar,  to  make 
her  his  wife.    He  had  not  much  to  live  on,  but,  as 


The  Orphax's  Adventure.      10 1 

he  laughingly  said,  it  did  not  cost  half  as  much  to 
support  a  prudent,  industrious  wife,  as  it  did  one 
fashionable  vice,  and  he  would  give  up  all  his  folhes 
and  vices  for  her  dear  sake. 

Oh,  how  happy  she  was,  and  how  cheerfully  she 
worked  and  sang  all  the  day  long  !  yes,  reader,  sang, 
for  her  all-absorbing  love  for  Robert  Marston  had 
completely  neutralized  her  deep  grief  for  her  mother's 
death  ;  and  why  not  ? — she  no  longer  felt  alone  in 
the  world,  she  had  a  strong  and  willing  arm  on 
which  to  lean  for  support  and  protection,  she  had  a 
loving  heart  in  which  to  pour  all  her  joys  and  sor- 
rows— in  fine,  she  loved  him  with  an  intensity,  an 
exclusiveness,  a  devotion,  which  changed  her  ver^ 
nature,  and  made  her  all  love. 

Their  meetings  had  not  been  confined  to  the  days 
on  which  she  went  to  and  returned  from  the  shop  for 
which  she  worked,  when  he  was  always  sure  to  join 
her,  but  she  would  steal  out  on  pleasant  evenings  to 
keep  appointments  with  hmi,  and  listen  to  his  pro- 
testations of  changeless  devotion — building  castles 
of  love,  home,  and  happiness  with  the  idol  of  her 
young  heart. 

One  evening  they  had  been  walking,  and  returned 
rather  earlier  than  had  been  his  wont,  and  for  the 


108       The   Second  Marriage. 

first  time  he  insisted  ou  inviting  himself  to  her  room. 
Glancing  upwards  as  she  neared  tlie  house,  she  saw 
that  Helen's  room  was  not  lighted,  and  at  once  con- 
jectured that  she  had  retired  ;  so  that  the  fear  of 
detection  being  removed,  at  least  so  far  as  her  friend 
was  concerned,  she  consented  that  he  should  pass  the 
remainder  of  the  evening  in  her  apartment.  How 
long  he  had  remained  there  neither  exactly  knew  ; 
but  they  were  disturbed  in  the  midst  of  their  conver- 
sation by  a  gentle  tap  at  the  door,  in  answer  to 
which  Julia  unthinkingly  in\ited  the  visitor  to  come 
in  ;  and  Helen  opened  the  door  gently,  saying,  at 
the  same  time,  Did  you  say  come  in,  dear  ?" 
.  "  Come  in,  Helen,  come  in.  It  is  only  a  friend  of 
mine,  to  whom  I  am  under  many  obligations,"  she 
said,  hastily,  and  coloring  to  the  very  roots  of  her 
hair.  "  Mr.  Marston,  Miss  Lee,"  she  added,  turning 
to  her  companion,  thus  completing  the  introduc- 
tion. 

But  he  paid  no  attention  to  her  words.  At  the 
sound  of  Helen's  voice  he  remained  rooted  and  mo- 
tionless in  his  chair.  The  blood  left  his  face  until  it 
was  of  an  ashy  whiteness,  and  he  seemed  like  one 
suddenly  paralyzed. 

Julia  turned  an  inquiring  glance  at  him,  and  then 


The  Orphan's  Adventure.  109 

upon  Helen  ;  but  if  her  surprise  was  great  at  Mr. 
Marston's  conduct,  it  was  lieightened  by  that  of 
Helen  Lee. 

She  stood  before  him,  within  an  arm's  length,  mute 
and  motionless,  her  eyes  fixed  upon  him  with  an  ex- 
pression which  it  would  be  impossible  to  convey  by 
any  words  ;  and  with  her  right  arm  extended,  her 
outstretched  hand  pointing  towards  him,  she  seemed 
as  though  frozen  into  a  statue. 

Julia  Seaton  turned  from  one  to  the  other  with 
wonder  and  amazement,  at  this  incomprehensible 
scene  ;  but  at  length  she  broke  the  silence  by  mov- 
ing towards  Helen,  and  exclaiming,  "  In  God's  name, 
Helen,  what  does  this  mean  ?" 

"  Mean  !  mean  !"  said  Helen,  sternly,  never  re- 
moving her  eyes  from  the  miserable  object  before  her, 
and  still  pointing  at  him  with  an  au*  and  expression 
of  scorn,  hatred  and  despair,  "  mean,  why,  that  he  is 
the  foulest,  vilest  villain  that  ever  disgraced  human- 
ity ;  it  means  that  he  dare  not  look  me  in  the  face, 
and  say  that  I  do  not  speak  the  truth." 

"  It  means,  that  if  he  is  a  friend  of  yours,  fate 
could  give  you  no  greater  curse  than  his  friendship. 
If  he  has  dared  to  say  he  loves  you,  and  I  have  no 
doubt  he  has,  he  is  a  vile  infamous  traitor  to  honor 


110       The   Second  Marriage. 

and  decency.  Out  upon  you,  Robert  Barton,  out 
upon  you,  and  do  not  dare  to  think  you  may  repeat 
your  triumphs  here,"  and  she  moved  towards  Juha, 
clasping  her  waist  with  one  hand,  and  keeping  the 
other  still  pointed  at  the  trembling  coward  who 
writhed  beneath  her  just  rebuke,  and  quailed  beneath 
the  glance  of  injured  and  hisulted  innocence. 

"  It  means,  Julia,"  she  continued,  pressing  the  af- 
frighted girl  to  her  side,  that  he  has  broken  my 
parent's  hearts  ;  that  he  has  brought  ruin,  infamy 
and  disgrace  upon  a  happy  home  ;  that  he  has  turned 
an  unprotected  girl,  whom  he  had  foully  wronged, 
from  her  parent's  home,  followed  by  a  parent's  curse  ; 
it  means,  that  he  has  doomed  to  a  life  of  poverty, 
sorrow  and  remorse,  one  whom  he  swore  to  love, 
cherish  and  protect ;  it  means,  Julia,  that  promising 
marriage  to  a  loving,  trusting  girl,  he  basely  ruined 
her,  cowardly  deserted  her,  and  has  dared  to  think 
that  his  wickedness  would  go  unpunished.  He  would 
make  Juha  Seaton  what  he  has  made  Helen  Lee.' 

"  Leave  this  room,  sir,"  she  continued,  with  a 
stamp  of  her  foot  and  a  menacing  gesture,  "  the  air 
here  is  too  pure  for  you  to  breathe,"  and  she  ad- 
vanced towards  him,  w^iile  the  affrighted  Julia  clung 
closer  to  her — ''your  presence,  pollutes  the  very  at- 


The    0  r  ]'  h  a  n  '  s  .V  d  v  f.  x  t  u  r  e  .  Ill 


mosphere — leave  this  room,  sir,  and  let  me  tell  this 
dear  unprotected  orphan  what  I  know  of  her  friend. 
Begone,  I  say,"  she  added,  stamping  her  foot  im- 
patiently, and  without  a  single  word  of  reply  or 
remonstrance,  he  slowly  left  the  apartment,  and  the 
girls  were  alone. 


CHAPTER  X. 


A  gentleman's  revenge. 

Robert  Barton  moved  along  mechanically  after 
he  left  the  house,  for  he  had  been  completely 
stunned  by  the  sudden  and  unexpected  discovery 
he  had  made. 

A  few  blocks,  however,  of  walking  enabled  him 
to  collect  his  thoughts,  and  he  muttered  to  himself 
threats  of  the  direst  vengeance  against  the  detector 
of  his  former  villainy,  swearing  a  bitter  oath  that 
he  would  bring  them  both  so  low,  they  should  yet 
be  glad  to  receive  even  charity  from  him  ;  and  un- 
fortunately, with  his  evil  inclinations  and  inten- 
tions, he  had  the  means  of  carrying  his  threats 
into  operation. 

On  the  next  occasion  when  Julia  returned  her 
work  to  the  store,  Helen  accompanied  her  at  her 
own  request,  lest,  as  she  feared.  Barton  might  accost, 


A  Gentleman's  Revenge.  113 

and  perhaps  insult  ber  ;  and,  as  they  neared  the 
place,  they  cast  furtive  but  eager  glances  about,  to 
see  if  he  was  in  the  vicinity  ;  but  there  was  no 
indication  that  he  was  near,  and  they  entered  the 
store  together. 

Julia,  as  was  her  custom,  handed  in  her  work 
with  her  pass-book,  for  it  was  the  regular  pay  day  ; 
and  when  the  clerk  had  made  the  necessary  entries 
and  additions,  he  laid  down  her  money,  and  putting 
the  book  towards  her,  turned  away. 

"  You  have  not  given  me  any  work,  Mr,  Farmer," 
she  said,  thinkmg  he  had  accidentally  omitted  to 
do  so. 

"  I  have  orders  not  to  give  you  any  more  work, 
Miss  Seaton,"  he  rephed,  coldly,  and  with  the  barest 
possible  approach  to  a  sneer,  which  brought  the 
blood  to  poor  JuUa's  face,  from  which  in  a  moment 
it  rushed  to  her  heart,  which  seemed  as  if  it  must 
burst. 

"  Iso  more  work,"  she  tremblingly  said — "  is  there 
any  reason  for  that  ?  I  am  sure  I  am  punctual,  and 
is  not  my  work  well  done 

"  I  never  ask  questions  of  my  employers.  Miss  ;  I 
obey  orders,  and  that  is  enough  for  me." 

But  it  is  not  enough  for  her.  Sir,"  said  Helen, 


114       The    Second  Marriage. 

stepping  up — "  there  must  be  some  cause  for  such  an 
order.  Why  should  Mr.  Edwards  wish  to  deprive 
an  orphan  of  her  only  means  of  earning  a  livelihood  ? 
We  must  see  Mr.  Edwards." 

"  We  need  not  trouble  ourselves,  Miss,"  said  the 
clerk,  with  a  very  decided  look  of  contempt ;  "I 
have  had  my  orders,  and  I  must  obey  them." 

"  I  must  see  Mr.  Edwards,"  said  Julia,  taking  up 
the  idea  which  Helen  had  started — he  cannot  be 
so  unjust — so  cruel — so  illiberal.  What  have  I 
done,  that  he  will  not  allow  me  even  to  work  for 
him  ?  I  must  see  him,  and,"  she  added  with  bitter 
emphasis,    I  will  see  him." 

You  will  have  to  wait  some  time  then,  I  am 
afraid,  for  he  left  this  morning  for  Newport ;  and 
here  is  his  written  order,  the  last  I  received  from 
him  ;"  and  he  handed  her  a  hastily-written  scrawl, 
which  he  took  from  the  drawer,  and  which  she 
rapidly  glanced  over. 

"  Why,  Helen,  you  are  included  too,  in  case  you 
should  ask  for  work.  There  is  something  more  here 
than  meets  the  eye." 

"  Me !"  said  Helen,  impetuously  snatching  the 
note,  and  hastily  scanning  its  contents — "  he  might 
at  least  have  waited  until  I  had  asked  for  work." 


A  Gentleman's  Kevenge.  lln 

"  I  only  obey  orders,  young  woman,"  said  the 
clerk,  very  decidedly — I  did  not  know  you,  Miss 
Lee,  or  " 

"  Of  course  not,  Sir,"  she  interrupted — "you  could 
not  well  know  me,  as  you  never  saw  me  ;  and  I 
should  really  like  to  know  why  I  am  included  in  the 
banns  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  have  it,"  she  said,  after  a  momentary 
pause,  a  gleam  of  intelhgence  lighting  up  her  pale 
face — "  I  see  throught  it  now.  Come,  Julia,  there 
is  no  use  in  waiting  here,  even  if  we  could  see  Mr. 
Edwards — come.  But,"  she  said,  turning  to  the 
clerk,  "  I  do  not  think  Mr.  Edwards  will  sleep  the 
easier  or  more  quietly  for  having  deprived  two  help- 
less females  of  the  means  of  earning  an  honest  liveh- 
hood,  to  gratify  the  malice  of  any  one." 

"  What  did  you  mean,  Helen,"  said  Julia,  when 
they  had  regained  the  streec. 

"  Can't  you  read  the  riddle,  dear  ?  Why  it  is 
Barton's  work.  He  was  foiled  in  his  efforts  to  ruin 
you  one  way,  and  he  means  to  do  it  in  another." 

"  Good  God  !  can  it  be  possible,"  exclaimed  Juha; 
"  can  any  man  be  so  mean — so  base  ?" 

"  Not  only  possible,  but  true,  my  life  on  it.  But 
come  ;  there's  no  use  in  despairing  ;  he  can't  go  to 


116       The  Second  Marriage. 

all  the  shops  in  New- York,  and  you  '  can  get  work 
where  I  do.  Go  over  there  with  me  ;  Mr.  Graham 
is  human,  at  least ;  he  won't  descend  quite  so  low  I 
think  in  meanness  as  Mr.  Edwards,  although  he  is 
the  richer  man  of  the  two." 

''You  measure  a  man's  meanness  by  his  wealth, 
dear  ?"  said  Julia,  inquiringly. 

''It  is  a  fair  standard  in  some  cases,  especially 
with  those  who  employ  female  operatives.  The 
more  they  gain,  the  more  ready  they  are  to  cut  down 
the  prices  of  their  workmen.  That  is  my  experience, 
and  if  you  have  not  learned  that  lesson  yet,  you  had 
better  begin  at  once." 

And  they  passed  on  to  Mr.  Graham's  store,  which 
was  situated  on  the  Bowery,  which  they  entered  in 
full  confidence  of  being  treated  there  with  ordinary 
humanity  and  civility,  and  on  the  part  of  Helen,  with 
the  certainty  of  procuring  work  for  Juha. 

In  this  she  was  successful,  and  as  they  left  the 
store,  Julia  fairly  hugging  her  bundle  to  her,  Helen 
strove  to  raise  her  spirits  by  the  assurance  that  Mr. 
Barton  could  never  have  any  influence  in  Mr.  Gra- 
ham's store.  He  was  a  kind-hearted,  charitable, 
christian  man,  whose  munificent  donations  to  almost 
every  charity  in  the  city,  had  been  blazoned  abroad 


A  Gentleman's  Revenge.  117 

through  every  newspaper  in  which  it  was  worth 
while  to  have  one's  name  mentioned. 

"Kow,  JuUa,"  said  Helen,  with  a  very  famt 
attempt  at  a  smile,  "I  suppose  we  may  put  Mr. 
Barton  at  defiance,  but — " 

''Oh,  pray  don't  say  but.  It  is  an  awful  word, 
and  carries  awful  meanings.  It  is  the  dividing  mark 
between  promise  and  fulfillment — between  anticipa- 
tion and  reahty.  I  would, — but — I  wish  to — but. 
Don't  say  but,  dear — say  the  worst — let  the  worst 
come,  I  do  not  fear  it.  I  am  alone  and  unprotected, 
but — and  Juha  faintly  smiled  too  as  she  caught  her- 
self using  the  forbidden  word,"  I  do  not  fear,  and  will 
not  despair.  I  do  not  forget — I  never  can  forget  my 
dear  mother's  last  words." 

"  And  what  were  they,  Juha  ?"  inquired  Helen, 
turning  eagerly  to  her  companion. 

''Ti'ust  in  God,  and  lead  a  virtuous  life,"  said 
Julia,  with  solemnity,  for  the  remembrance  of  the 
terrible  circumstances  under  which  these  words  were 
spoken,  was  fi'esh  in  her  mind,  and  her  present 
circumstances  caused  the  remembrance  of  those 
words  to  make  a  deeper  impression  than  they  ever 
had  before,  even  m  the  sad  horn*  in  which  they  were 
spoken.    Helen  turned  away  with  an  expression  so 


118 


The  Second  Marriage. 


sad,  so  sorrowful,  so  agonizing,  Julia  would  have 
regretted  that  she  uttered  the  words,  could  she  have 
seen  it,  but  she  made  no  reply.  They  soon  reached 
home,  and  after  an  hour  of  quiet,  but  pleasant  inter- 
course, they  separated  for  the  night. 


CHAPTER  XI. 


HUSBAND  AND  WIFE. 

The  occurrences  detailed  in  a  portion  of  the  last 
chapter  but  one,  occurred  shortly  after  my  last  inter- 
view with  Mrs.  Marvin. 

I  was  called  to  a  patient  in  the  house  where  JuHa 
Seaton  resided,  and  as  I  ascended  the  stairs,  he  was 
in  the  act  of  leaving  her  apartment,  the  light  from 
which  shone  so  full  upon  his  face,  I  could  distinguish 
plainly  not  only  the  deathly  pallor  of  his  countenance, 
but  the  expression  of  devilish  malignity  which  crossed 
it  as  he  closed  the  door. 

As  I  had  not  seen  Julia  since  her  mother's  death, 
I  determined  to  pay  her  a  call,  and  having  con- 
cluded the  visit  to  my  patient,  I  knocked  at  her  door, 
which  was  opened  by  Julia  herself. 

She  recognised  me  on  the  instant,  and  appeared 
very  glad  to  see  me,  introducing  me  to  her  friend, 
Helen,  as  one  to  whom  she  was  under  many  obli- 
gations. 

I  saw  that  her  eyes  were  red  with  weeping,  while 


120        The  Second  Marriage. 


Helen,  (who,  by  the  way,  I  had  only  seen  before  oc- 
casionally as  I  passed  in  and  out  of  the  house  while 
attending  Mrs.  Seaton,  and  who  had  stopped  me  two 
or  three  times  to  inquire  after  my  patient),  was  ex- 
cessively pale,  and  apparently  laboring  under  some 
terrible  excitement. 

I  felt  that  I  had  some  claim  upon  JuHa,  and  did 
not  hesitate  to  ask  the  cause. 

Her  reply,  after  interchanging  glances  with  Helen, 
and  receiving  her  assent,  was  the  brief  narrative 
which  I  have  given  above.  I  listened  patiently,  and 
turning  to  Helen,  asked  by  what  name  he  was 
married  to  her,  (for  a  ceremony  had  been  performed, 
which  afterwards,  when  he  had  wearied  of  her,  he 
declared  was  a  sham),  and  she  replied,  "  Robert 
Barton." 

At  these  words,  I  felt  the  blood  coursing  through 
my  veins  with  tremendous  rapidity,  but  concealing 
my  emotion,  I  asked  where  she  had  met  him  ? 

In  Otsego  county,  where  my  father  is  a  farmer 
of  wealth  and  high  standing  ;  he  was  there  passing 
the  summer  in  fishing  and  gunning,  and  boarded  at 
a  neighbor's,  within  a  few  yards  of  my  father's 
house." 

'      Where  was  this  ceremony  performed  ?" 

"  In  New- York.   He  persuaded  me  to  elope  with 


Husband  and  Wife.  121 

him,  my  parents  haYing  absolutely  forbidden  his  fur- 
ther visits  to  our  house." 

"  Was  there  no  certificate  given  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes  ;  but  he  took  that  to  keep  for  me,  the' 
I  have  no  doubt,  the  certificate  was  no  more  genuine 
than  the  marriage." 

It  is  not  necessary  to  detail  the  further  conversa- 
tion I  had  with  the  unhappy  victims  of  this  infamous 
villain.  I  did  not  give  them  any  intimation  which 
might  lead  them  to  believe  I  had  ever  heard  of  Mr. 
Barton,  and  kept  my  own  counsels,  well  assured,  that 
if  it  was  the  Robert  Barton,  whose  true  character  I 
was  so  anxious  to  discover,  I  should  learn  it  in  due 
time. 

I  bade  them  to  feel  no  apprehensions  from  him  for 
the  future,  and  took  my  leave  with  a  heart  filled 
with  the  most  joyous  anticipations,  for  here  was  one 
clue  which  might  enable  me  to  thread  the  labyrinth 
through  which  Mrs.  Evarts  had  reached  the  goal  of 
her  desires. 

My  first  care  on  the  following  morning  was  to  pro- 
ceed to  the  store  of  Messrs.  B  &  B.,  owners  of  the 
Omega,  on  board  which  Marvin  was  mate,  and 
having  ascertained  the  name  of  then*  assignees,  I 
went  at  once  to  their  office. 

I  laid  the  case  of  Mrs.  Marvin  plainly  before 


122       The  Second  Marriage. 

them,  and  had  the  satisfaction  of  receiving  not  only 
his  back  pay,  amounting  to  some  seventy  dollars,  but 
their  acceptance  of  the  order  for  the  regular  payment 
until  the  vessel  should  retm*n. 

This  was  a  source  of  great  satisfaction  to  me,  for  I 
knew  that  while  it  placed  her  above  absolute  want, 
she  could,  by  her  needle,  earn  enough  for  the  com- 
fortable subsistence  of  herself  and  child. 

That  I  was  favorably — nay,  more  than  favorably 
impressed  with  Mrs.  Marvin,  I  make  no  denial — I 
was  deeply  interested  in  her  welfare,  and  fully  be- 
lieved her  to  be  the  victim  of  a  nefarious  plot.  To 
ferret  that  out,  I  determined  to  lend  all  my  energies  ; 
and  I  resolved  to  follow  out  cautiously,  but  perse- 
veriugly,  the  clue  afforded  by  the  discovery  of  Bar- 
ton's villainy.  I  well  knew  that  one  who  had  the 
shrewdness  and  cunning  to  devise  and  carry  out 
such  plans  as  those  laid  so  successfully  by  Mrs. 
Evarts,  was  also  shrewd  enough  to  place  herself 
beyond  the  reach  of  suspicion  or  discovery,  and  the 
inevitable  consequences.  I  must  work  therefore  cau- 
tiously ;  for  if  once  she  entertained  an  inklmg  of  my 
suspicions,  she  would  doubtless  interpose  every  pos- 
sible obstacle  to  any  further  movement  on  my  part. 

It  was  a  very  busy  day  with  me,  so  that  it  was 
quite  dark  when  I  reached  my  ofi&ce,  and  as  I  en- 


Husband  and  Wife. 


123 


tered,  I  observed  a  gentleman  seated  in  my  arm- 
chair, his  head  buried  in  his  hands,  and  his  elbows 
resting  on  the  table. 

Ah,  Doctor,"  said  my  visitor,  raising  his  head, 
and  I  recognised  the  voice  at  once  as  that  of  Mr. 
Evarts,  though  it  was  so  dark  I  could  not  distinguish 
his  features,  "I  am  glad  you  have  come — I  have  been 
waiting  some  time  for  you." 

"  I  am  sorry  to  have  kept  you  waiting,"  I  said, 
proceeding  to  light  the  gas  ;  and  turning  to  him,  I 
saw  that  he  was  ghastly  pale,  and  very  much  excited. 

"  Oh,  not  long — I  have  not  been  here  more  than 
an  hour." 

"  An  hour  !"  thought  I,  and  his  words  satisfied  me 
that  the  father,  after  all,  predominated  over  the  man, 

"But  it's  no  matter.  Have  you  seen  her?"  for  he 
would  not  mention  the  name  of  daughter." 

''I  have — T  saw  her  the  day  before  yesterday 
afternoon." 

"And  did  you  give  that  money  to  her ?" 

"  I  offered  it  to  her,  but  she  absolutely  refused  to 
touch  one  cent  of  it.  Indeed,  she  seemed  hurt  and 
offended  that  I  should  have  taken  the  hberty  of 
using  her  name  and  mentioning  her  circumstances  at 
all ;  and  all  my  efforts  to  persuade  her  to  take  it 
were  in  vain." 


124       The   Second  Marriage. 

"  What  reasons  did  she  give  ?" 

"  Simply  that  there  were  others  much  more  desti- 
tute than  herself,  and  that  the  sum  intended  for 
her,  would  relieve  them  from  absolute  suffering,  while 
she  was  able  to  earn  at  least  a  Uving." 

Noble — generous,"  he  said  ;  then  suddenly  check- 
ing hunself — "  then  she  is  not  really  destitute  ?"  he 
inquired,  with  affectionate  earnestness. 

"  Oh,  no,  Mr.  Evarts — so  far  from  that,  I  have 
only  this  day  arranged  with  the  assignees  of  B.  & 
W.  that  she  shall  receive  the  half  pay  which  her 
husband  left ;  and  they  have  paid  me  some  seventy 
dollars  which  had  become  due  since  the  failure  of 
the  owners.  She  did  not  know  how  to  arrange  such 
matters,  but  I  had  no  difficulty  whatever." 

"Doctor,"  said  Mr.  Evarts,  after  a  pause  of  some 
moments,  and  drawing  his  hand  across  his  forehead, 
as  if  to  collect  his  thoughts,  "you  have  known  my — 
I  mean  Mrs.  Marvin — some  time  now  ?" 

"  Between  five  and  six  weeks." 

"  You  see  her  frequently  ?" 

"Hitherto  I  have,  professionally.  I  saw  her  daily 
for  two  or  three  weeks,  and  have  visited  her  several 
times  since  her  child's  recovery." 

"And what  is  your  candid  opinion  of  her ?" 

"  May  I  speak  with  perfect  plainness  ?"  ■ 


Husband  and  Wife. 


125 


"  I  have  asked  the  question,  sir." 

"Then,  sir,  my  honest  opinion  is,  that  you  and 
your  daughter  are  the  victims  of  a  deep-laid  plot 
to—" 

"Stop,  stop — that  will  do,  Doctor,"  he  said, 
rising,  his  countenance  flushing  with  excitement — "  I 
cannot  hear  such  language.  My  wife  is  a  virtuous, 
high-minded,  affectionate  woman,  and  as  incapable  of 
plotting  or  scheming  against  me  or  mine,  as  any  one 
could  be.  You  take  advantage,  sir,  of  my  confidence 
in  you,  by  the  use  of  such  language  ;"  and  as  I  saw 
that  he  was  seriously  hurt,  I  merely  bowed  as  if  in 
assent  to  his  right  thus  to  check  me,  and  said  nothing. 

"We  will  change  the  subject.  Doctor,"  he  said, 
with  an  effort  at  a  smile.  "  I  am  obliged  to  you  for 
your  care  of,  and  interest  in  my — Mrs.  Marvin,  and 
can  only  regret  the  failure  of  your  mission.  I  am 
glad,  however,  to  hear  that  she  is  not  likely  to 
suffer." 

"Not  while  I  hve,  and  am  able  to  prt/ent  it,"  I 
said,  with  an  earnestness  which  caused  him  to  look 
upon  me  with  a  searching  glance. 

"Come  around  soon,  Doctor.  You  will  meet  a 
nephew  of  mine,  or  rather  of  my  wife,  who  I  think 
would  be  a  pleasant  acquaintance.  He  returned 
from  Europe  some  months  since,  but  his  evenings 


126       The  Second  Marriage. 

have  been  engrossed  in  business  until  now,  and  I 
think  you  have  never  met  him  there.  I  don't  know 
that  you  have  ever  heard  of  him.  His  name  is 
Barton — Robert  Barton,  the  son  of  a  highly  re- 
spectable southern  planter,  as  my  wife  informs  me." 

"  I  never  have,"  I  said,  scarce  concealing  my  joy 
at  the  possibility  of  meetmg  the  person  whom  I  was 
so  anxious  to  see. 

"  He  was  principal  book-keeper  in  a  large  house 
down  town,  which  engrossed  all  his  evenings  ;  but  as 
I  think  he  and  Mattie  are  making  up  a  match,  I 
have  some  thoughts  of  taking  him  in  with  me." 

"  If  you  do,"  I  said,  mentally,  and  he  don't  take 
you  in,  I  shall  be  egregiously  mistaken  ;"  but  I 
merely  bowed  to  his  remark,  and  promising  an  early 
call,  he  took  his  leave. 

You  may  rely  upon  it,  reader,  I  did  not  leave  that 
invitation  long  unheeded. 

On  the  following  morning  I  sent  the  seventy 
dollars  to  Mrs.  Marvin,  with  a  brief  note,  informing 
her  that  she  would  thenceforth  receive  her  lialf-pay 
regularly  through  me,  and  added  that  it  might  be 
some  days  before  I  saw  her  again. 

A  few  evenings  afterwards  I  paid  my  promised  call 
at  Mr.  Evarts'  and,  in  added  to  the  usual  family, 
was  introduced  to  "my  wife's  nephew,"  the  veritable 


Husband  and  Wife.  12t 

Robert  Barton,  whom  I  bad  seen  coming  from  the 
room  of  JuUa  Seaton,  and  with  whom  the  reader  is 
already  partially  acquainted. 

He  was  a  tall,  fine-looking  young  man,  easy  and 
graceful  in  his  manner,  and  with  an  air  of  frankness 
and  candor  which  might  deceive  a  saint. 

The  manner  in  which  he  met  me  on  our  introduc- 
tion, convinced  me  that  he  had  been  well  "  posted 
up"  by  mother  and  daughter  ;  and  I  had  really  some 
difficulty  in  convincing  myself  that  he  was  not  one  of 
the  most  smcere,  open-hearted,  and  generous-minded 
men  in  existence. 

But  he  was  Robert  Barton — the  Robert  Barton 
of  Cora  Evarts — the  Robert  Barton  of  Helen  Lee 
and  of  JuUa  Seaton — and  I  was  proof  against  him. 

Of  course  I  was  as  polite  as  himself ;  and  I  don't 
know  but  I  went  more  than  half  way  to  meet  him. 
Mrs.  Evarts  and  Martha  looked  upon  our  growing 
intimacy  with  evident  pleasure,  and  this  very  fact 
served  to  confirm  my  suspicions  as  to  the  trio. 

Mrs.  Evarts  was  more  than  usually  gracious,  and 
Mattie  made  no  scruple  of  exhibiting  her  very 
marked  appreciation  of  myself,  though  I  could  not 
perceive  that  it  caused  any  uneasiness  to  Mr.  Barton, 
which  would  have  been  natural,  if  Mr.  Evarts  was 
correct  in  his  surmises  as  to  theu'  position. 


128        The   Second  Marriage. 

Yery  soon  after  tea,  Mr.  Barton  and  Mr.  Evarts 
excused  themselves  on  the  plea  of  business,  and  soon 
after  they  had  gone,  Mattie  left  the  room,  so  that 
Mrs.  Evarts  and  myself  were  alone. 

I  was  well  convinced  this  was  a  premeditated 
scheme,  and  it  was  not  long  before  my  suspicions 
were  confirmed. 

After  a  few  minutes  of  general  conversation,  Mrs. 
Evarts  drew  her  chair  closer  to  my  own,  and  with 
an  air  of  confidential  intimacy,  inquired,  "  have  you 
seen  that  unfortunate  young  woman.  Doctor,  since 
our  interview  ?" 

I  was  fully  prepared  for  this  question,  and  with- 
out hesitation  answered,  "  yes,  Madam  ;  I  have  seen 
her  occasionally,  on  account  of  her  child,  who  has 
been  ailing." 

"You  have  reflected,  no  doubt,  on  what  I  told 
you,  Doctor  ?" 

''Frequently,  Madam.  I  could  not  fail  to  be 
grateful  for  the  kind  interest  you  took  in  me,  a  com- 
parative stranger,  and  have  endeavored  to  profit  by 
your  advice  and  warning." 

"  Do  you  not  think  her  a  very  remarkable  wo- 
man ?" 

"Yery,  indeed,"  I  rephed,  rather  impetuously, 
without  givmg  her  time  to  finish  her  sentence. 


Husband   and  Wife.  129 

"  I  mean  do  you  not  find  what  I  said  of  her  to  be 
true  ?  that  she  is  an  artful,  deceitful  woman  ?" 

"  I  must  confess  I  was  very  much  disappointed  in 
her,"  I  answered,  equivocally. 

I  knew  it  could  not  be  otherwise.  Once  you 
were  put  on  your  guard  against  the  impulses  of  your 
too  generous  heart,  you  could  not  fail  to  discover  her 
true  character.  I  am  really  glad  I  had  it  in  my 
power,  and  had  sufficient  confidence  in  you,  to  warn 
you  against  her  arts. 

I  dared  not  trust  myself  to  any  reply,  and  merely 
bowed,  a  movement  which  she  might  construe  as  she 
chose  best. 

"  But,  Doctor,"  she  continued,  with  well-feigned 
earnestness,  and  drawing  her  chair  still  closer  to  me, 
at  the  same  turning  towards  the  door,  as  if  to  make 
sure  she  could  not  be  overheard,  "  I  have  that  to 
tell  you,  which  will  surprise  even  you.  You  will 
hardly  believe  her  capable  of  such  baseness,  but  I 
have  reason  to  know,  that  she  has  already  boasted 
of  her  influence  over  you  ;  for  I  know  that  she  has 
given  you  her  version  of  the  causes  which  led  to  the 
separation  from  her  family — "  and  she  paused,  lean- 
ing back  in  her  chair,  watching  my  countenance  to 
observe  the  efi'ect  her  words  had  upon  me. 

I  was  so  completely  taken  by  surprise  at  her  last 
6* 


130       The  Second  Marriage. 

words,  the  color  mounted  to  my  cheeks,  and  I  could 
feel  my  very  ears  tingling  ;  and  this,  to  a  woman  of 
her  perception,  was  a  virtual  acknowledgment  that 
what  she  had  said  was  true. 

I  saw  by  her  glance  that  she  read  my  very 
thoughts,  and,  cursing  my  stupidity,  I  was  fain  to 
slip  into  the  net  spread  for  me.  In  truth,  I  did  not 
believe  she  had  ever  heard  a  word,  directly  or  indi- 
rectly, from  or  of  Mrs.  Marvin  ;  but  my  blushes 
had  betrayed  me,  and  I  was  measurably  at  her 
mercy. 

Yes,  doctor,  and  she  has  boasted  openly  that 
her  influence  over  you  was  so  unbounded,  you  would 
do  anything  she  required.  I  am  afraid,  doctor,  you 
have  not  heeded  all  I  said  to  you  the  other  morning." 

''It  is  a  wicked  lie,  madam,"  I  said,  .referring  to 
her  own  words  ;  but  she  applied  my  remark  as  I 
knew  she  would,  to  the  assertion  of  Mrs.  Marvin's 
influence  over  me,  and  I  steered  clear  of  that.  "  I 
confess  that  I  am  much  disappointed  in  the  woman." 

"  I  knew  you  would  be,"  she  said,  not  waiting  for 
me  to  finish  the  sentence  ;  "it  could  not  be  otherwise. 
Heaven  knows,"  continued  she,  with  an  affectation 
of  humility  and  sorrow,  ''  how  I  loved  that  girl,  and 
what  efforts  I  made  to  screen  her  from  the  conse- 
quences of  her  own  acts  ;  but  she  was  so  impetuous 


Husband  and  Wife.  131 

— so  headstrong — so  passionate — she  would  not  ap- 
preciate my  motives.  Poor  Barton  !  it  was  a  long 
time  before  I  could  coax  him  into  the  house  ;  but 
now  Mr.  Evarts  has  discovered  his  true  character, 
he  is  as  much  attached  to  him  as  if  he  was  his  own 
son." 

"  Indeed,"  I  thought — but  not  aloud — ''perhaps 
when  he  learns  a  little  more  of  the  truth,  his  attach- 
ment may  not  be  quite  so  strong  ;"  but  I  said,  "  he 
.appears  to  be  an  uncommonly  fine  young  man." 

"  Indeed,  he  is  ;  and  worthy  of  all  the  friendship 
you  may  bestow  upon  him.  I  am  not  ashamed  to 
say,  I  hke  him — not  alone  because  he  is  my  nephew, 
but  " 

"  Because  he  is  likely  to  become  your  son,"  I  said, 
smiling  ;  and,  as  she  smiled  without  making  any 
reply,  I  was  satisfied  with  her  meaning. 

"  Is  the  poor  thing  entirely  destitute,  Doctor  ?" 
she  inquired,  with  an  appearance  of  deep  interest. 

"  Oh,  by  no  means,"  I  said,  unthinkingly  ;  "I 
have  succeeded  in  securing  for  her  not  only  her 
husband's  half-pay,  but  some  seventy  dollars  of  ar- 
rearages due." 

"Indeed! — then  she  made  some  use  of  your 
friendship,"  she  said,  with  the  slightest  tinge  of  sar- 
casm in  her  tone. 


132       The    Second   Marriage.  ' 

"  Oh,  not  at  all,"  I  said,  and  I  could  have  bit  my 
tongue  off  for  my  folly,  "it  was  a  mere  matter  of 
humanity.  Surely,  remembering  your  kindness,  and 
the  interest  you  have  taken  in  me,  I  could  not  be  so 
ungrateful  as  to  be  influenced  by  one  who  bears  you 
no  love." 

This  soothed  and  pacified  her  ;  and  after  a  few 
minutes  passed  in  general  conversation,  Mattie  re- 
turned, and  the  evening  was  passed  in  apparent 
pleasure — for  I  strove  to  make  myself  forget  what  an 
ass  I  had  been  in  suffering  Mrs.  Evarts  to  worm 
from  me  so  much  as  she  had  done. 

The  gentlemen  did  not  return  until  a  late  hour  ; 
and  receiving  pressing  invitations  from  mother  and 
daughter  to  make  my  calls  more  frequent,  with  the 
assurance  that  they  would  always  be  welcome,  I  took 
my  leave. 

A  few  days  after  this  visit,  I  received  an  anony- 
mous letter,  warning  me  that  my  visits  to  Mrs.  Mar- 
vin's were  well  known,  and  that  it  was  equally  well 
known  that  my  professional  services  were  not  re- 
quired. I  was  cautioned  to  desist  from  them  if  I 
valued  my  future  character  and  prospects,  and  the 
writer  assured  me  that  it  had  been  the  topic  of  con- 
versation already  among  my  friends. 

This  "weak  invention  of  the  enemy,"  which  I 


<9t 

Husband   and   Wife.  138 

attributed  to  Mrs.  Evarts,  served  to  light  a  segar, 
and  all  thoughts  of  it  passed  from  my  mind.  Of 
course  I  carefully  avoided  any  mention  of  it  to  Mrs. 
Marvin,  as  I  had  no  desire  to  wound  her  feehngs  by 
any  unnecessary  allusion  to  a  subject  so  painful. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


A  DISCOVERY. 

Matters  proceeded  quietly  for  a  few  weeks,  during 
which  nothing  occurred  from  which  I  might  glean 
any  information  useful  to  Mrs.  Marvin. 

I  visited  her  occasionally,  and  was  always  received 
as  a  valued  friend.  Xo  allusion  was  made  to  the 
circumstances  detailed  in  the  previous  chapters,  ex- 
cept when  I  mentioned  my  meeting  Mr.  Barton  at 
Juha  Seaton's,  and  my  subsequent  introduction  to 
him  at  Mr.  Evarts'. 

Julia  and  Helen  I  continued  also  to  see,  and  was 
glad  to  learn  that  Barton  had  not  made  any  new 
attempt  to  see  Juha,  or  to  annoy  her  by  his  atten- 
tions, although  his  attempt  to  deprive  them  of  em- 
ployment had  compelled  me  to  believe  him  capable 
of  any  thing. 

I  was  in  the  habit  of  caUing  at  Mr.  Evarts'  at 
least  once  in  each  week,  and  I  always  found  Barton 
there,  who  received  me  in  the  frankest  and  -most 
cordial  manner  ;  and  when  we  met,  as  we  did  occa- 


A  Discovery. 


135 


sionally  by  chance  in  the  street,  he  evinced  the 
greatest  desire  to  court  my  intimacy. 

Mrs.  Evarts  and  Mattie  treated  me  with  their 
wonted  kindness  ;  and  but  for  the  certain  conviction 
I  had  of  their  iniquity,  I  could  have  enjoyed  their 
society,  for  they  were  well-informed  and  agreeable. 

Mrs.  Marvin's  name,  of  course,  never  passed  my 
lips,  and  no  allusion  was  made  to  her  by  any  member 
of  the  family.  I  knew  that  any  attempt  to  force  a 
discovery  would  end  in  my  discomfiture,  and  probably 
bring  additional  trouble  on  her,  so  I  prudently  left 
it  to  time  and  Providence  to  set  her  aright. 

One  day,  by  invitation  of  an  intimate  medical 
friend,  I  accompanied  him  to  see  a  patient,  the 
character  of  whose  disease  was  so  singular  as  to  be 
almost  an  exception  in  ordinary  practice. 

On  reaching  the  house,  which  was  m  the  upper 
and  eastern  section  of  the  city,  my  surprise  and 
delight  may  be  imagined,  when  I  discovered  in  the 
patient,  John,  the  servant  of  Mr.  Evarts,  who  had 
been  suborned  to  perjure  himself  against  his  master's 
daughter. 

He  knew  me  well,  and  was  much  pleased  to  see 
me  ;  asking  after  the  family,  and  showing  that  he 
was  aware  of  the  intimate  footing  on  which  I  stood 
towards  them.    In  answer  to  my  question  why  I  had 


136       The   Second  Marriage. 

not  been  sent  for,  as  he  knew  I  was  Mr.  Evarts' 
family  physician,  he  answered,  without  thinking,  that 

Dr.  D  ,  my  friend,  had  been  sent  by  Mrs.  Evarts. 

This  at  once  let  me  into  the  secret  that  she  feared  I 
might  discover  from  John  some  things  which  she 
would  prefer  to  conceal  from  me. 

My  plans  were  rapidly  laid  ;  and  after  examining 
his  case  professionally,  I  called  Dr.  D   into  an- 
other room,  as  if  for  the  purpose  of  a  consultation, 
and  briefly  made  known  to  him  the  condition  of 
things,  so  far  as  John  was  concerned.  He  readily 
assented  to  aid  me  in  my  wishes  ;  and  returning  to 
our  patient,  we  found  him  in  a  high  state  of  nervous 
excitement,  for  he  was  dreadfully  frightened  at  the 
idea  of  having  a  consultation  over  his  case. 

Putting  on  an  air  of  solemnity  befitting  the  part  I 
was  playing,  I  told  him  that  his  disease  was  of  a  com- 
plicated and  most  serious  character,  in  which  Dr. 

D  coincided.    That  the  utmost  care  would  be 

required  on  our  part  to  insure  his  recovery,  but  that 
every  thing  in  our  power  would  be  done  to  serve 
him. 

He  promised  implicit  obedience  to  our  directions, 

and  I  agreed  to  give  Dr.  D  the  benefit  of  my  aid 

and  counsel,  on  condition  that  he  should  not  mention 
the  fact  of  my  being  employed  by  Mrs.  Evarts,  as  she 


A  Discovery 


137 


would,  doubtless,  be  very  angry  to  find  that  he  had 
not  reposed  full  confidence  in  the  physician  provided 
by  herself. 

John  and  his  wife  promised  ready  compliance  with 
this  or  any  other  condition  I  might  impose,  for  they 
were  both  dreadfully  alarmed  ;  and  having  prescribed 
some  very  simple  and  harmless  medicine,  we  took  our 
leave. 

On  our  way  down  in  Dr.  D  's  gig,  I  narrated  to 

him  enough  of  Mrs.  Marvin's  history  to  interest  him 
deeply,  and  his  hearty  co-operation  was  cheerfully 
promised.  He  consented  to  let  me  have  my  own  way 
with  his  patient,  and,  as  well  as  myself,  was  quite  san- 
guine that  some  good  would  come  out  of  this  evil 
after  all. 

This  day  was  doomed  to  be  one  of  uncommon  ad- 
venture. It  was  nearly  the  hour  for  dinner  when  we 
reached  my  friend's  house,  and  he  pressed  me  so 
earnestly  to  join  him,  I  consented  ;  and  it  did  not 
cost  much  of  an  effort,  for  I  was  in  the  daily  practice 
of  taking  my  meals  at  the  nearest  "restaurant  where  I 
chanced  to  be  at  the  time,  and  to  any  thing  like  home- 
comfort  I  was  an  absolute  stranger. 

Mrs.  D  had  gone  to  pass  the  day  alone  with  a 

friend,  so  we  had  a  bachelor's  dinner,  and  a  pleasant 
talk  over  old  times,  there  bemg  no  one  to  overhear 


138        The   Second  Marriage. 

us  but  Diuali,  an  old  negro  woman,  employed  as  cook 
and  general  maid  of  all  work,  who  was  waiting  on 
the  table. 

While  she  was  clearing  away  the  dishes  and  we  were 
preparing  for  our  punch  and  segars,  D  said  to  me, 

"Come — give  me  some  more  of  the  history  of 
your  protege.  Two  head's  are  better  than  one,  if 
one  is  a  pin's  head  ;  who  knows  what  service  I  may 
be  enabled  to  render  you  ;  of  course,  it  shall  be  in 
strict  confidence." 

Thus  assured,  I  gave  him  a  detailed  history  of 
Mr.  Evarts,  his  marriage,  his  cruelty  to  his  daughter, 
and  her  present  condition,  not  forgetting  to  give  Mrs. 
Evarts  due  credit  for  her  agency  in  the  matter. 

Who  was  this  Jezabel,"  he  asked,  "  before  she 
had  the  good  fortune  to  hook  so  fine  a  prize  ?" 

"  A  Mrs.  Main  ;  they  met  at  Savannah,  in  the 
same  boarding-house  ;  she  spread  her  net,  and  caught 
him,  but  as  to  who  or  what  she  was  before,  I  don't 
believe  Evarts  knows  any  more  than  myself." 

A  low  "  yah-yah-yah "  from  Dinah,  caused  me  to 
turn  my  head,  and  I  saw  her  mouth  stretched  from 
ear  to  ear,  displaying  her  toothless  gums,  while  her 
whole  frame  was  quivering  with  the  laughter  she  was 
trying  to  suppress. 

"Why,  Dinah,  what  on  earth  ails  you?"  said  her 


A  Discovery. 


139 


master,  ''are  you  sick  ?  Here,  take  a  glass  of  whis- 
key— that's  your  standard  remedy  f  and  he  poured 
out  for  her  half  a  tumbler  of  the  raw  material,  which 
she  drained  at  a  draught,  wiping  her  mouth  with 
her  apron. 

"  Come,  Dinah,  out  with  it ;  that  darkey  knows 
something,"  he  said;  "speak  up,  Aunty — don't  be 
afraid." 

"  Afeard — I  guess  I'd  like  to  know  who's  afeard. 
I  does  know  suthing,  and  I  aint  afeard  to  tell  it.  I 
guess  I  knows  Ma'am  Main,  as  well  any  other  nigger. 
I  wonder  if  dis  nigger  did'nt  live  with  her  five  years 
down  in  Alabama.  Ma'am  Main,  indeed — afeard  of 
Ma'am  Main  ?"  and  she  looked  at  the  whiskey-bottle 

with  such  longing  eyes.  Dr.  D  ,  with  a  wink  to  me, 

poured  out  another  half-tumbler,  which  went  the  way 
of  the  first. 

"  That  will  loosen  the  muscles  of  her  tongue,"  he 
said,  laughing,  as  Dinah  set  down  the  glass. 

"  Come,  now,  Dinah,  tell  us  what  you  do  know 
about  Ma'am  Main,"  I  said,  slipping  a  gold  piece 
into  her  ready  palm,  and  without  more  ado,  she  did 
tell  us. 

What  was  the  nature  of  her  information,  it  is  nofc 
necessary  to  mention  now  ;  but  it  caused  me  to  feel 
that  the  hand  of  Divine  Providence  had  been  inter- 


140       The   Secoxd  Marriage. 

posed  in  behalf  of  the  injured  and  persecuted  daugh- 
ter of  a  most  unhappy  father,  Dinah  had  indeed 
lived  with  Ma'am  Main,  and  to  some  purpose,  and 

was  famiUar  with  events  in  her  life,  which  .  But 

no  more  at  present. 

"J^ow,  Dinah,"  said  D  ,  as  she  concluded,  "you 

know  I  have  been  kind  and  indulgent  to  you,  and 
don't  scold  you,  when  you  get  too  much  whiskey  on 
board,  because  I  like  you." 

"  Dat  you  is  a  fust-rate  man,"  she  said,  her  eyes 
sparkling  with  animation  at  this  praise,  and  the 
whiskey  combined. 

"  Well,  then,  you  mustn't  breath  a  word  of  this  to 
a  single  human  being,  'till  I  tell  you  ;  you  hear  ?" 

"  Sartin.  Dey  don't  get  nuffin  out  of  dis  nigger. 
Mind  you,  massa,  all  I  said  am  de  trute — ebery  word, 
and  Ma'am  Main  duss'nt  say  it  wa'n't and  she 
sailed  out  of  the  room  with  a  gait  marvellously  un- 
steady, for  she  had  drank  a  full  half-pint  of  raw 
whiskey. 

Dr.  D  and  I  remained  silent  for  a  few  mo- 
ments. As  for  myself,  I  don't  believe  I  could  have 
spoken  rationally  then  on  any  subject,  so  highly  was 
I  excited  at  what  I  had  just  heard. 

I  could  not  repress  my  desire  to  be  moving  about, 
though  I  had  no  earthly  object  in  view.    In  fact,  I 


A  Discovery. 


141 


was  for  the  nonce,  a  little  touched,  I  think,  in  the 
upper  story,  so  marvellous  had  been  the  narrative 
which  I  had  heard,  and  so  certain  of  the  consequen- 
ces which  I  knew  would  ensue  on  its  being  made 
known  in  proper  quarters. 

Bidding  my  friend  a  good-day — first  heartily 
thanking  him  for  the  assistance  he  had  so  unwittingly 
rendered,  in  a  matter  so  deeply  interesting  to  myself, 
I  took  my  leave,  and  went  about  my  routine 
business. 

1  am  afraid  I  made  some  sad  mistakes  that  day. 
In  fact  I  know  of  a  violent  emetic  having  been 
administered  to  a  patient,  which  I  am  sure  I  never 
prescribed,  but  which  I  was  compelled  to  acknow- 
ledge, when  my  own  writmg  was  exhibited  to  me. 

My  first  resolve,  after  leaving  Dr.  D — 's,  had  been 
to  go  direct  to  Mrs.  Marvin's,  and  make  her 
acquainted  with  the  occurrences  of  the  day — and  I 
pictured  to  myself  her  cheeks  flushed  with  pleasure, 
her  eyes  sparkling  with  delight,  and  her  frame 
trembling  with  excitement,  as  she  listened  to  me  ; 
but  second  thoughts  prevailed. 

I  realized  painfully  that  the  denouement  must  be 
much  farther  off  than  my  heated  imagination  had 
first  proposed ;  and  to  excite  expectations  in  her 
which  might  not  be  realized  for  months,  if  indeed 


♦ 


142       The   Second  Marriage. 

at  all,  would  have  been  but  the  refinement  of  cruelty  ; 
for  "  hope  deferred  maketh  the  heart  sick." 

I  therefore  kept  my  own  counsel  ;  and,  having 
closed  the  duties  of  the  day,  retired  to  my  office, 
and  smoked  my  cigar  with  unwonted  gusto,  for  I  felt 
that  I  had  accomplished  much  indeed,  though  the 
actual  result  of  my  labors  might  be  far  off". 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


MR.    barton's  adventure. 

The  same  night,  as  I  was  in  the  act  of  retiring, 
my  oflBce-bell  was  rung  violently,  and,  on  admitting 
the  visitor,  I  found  him  to  be  a  servant  with  a  note 
from  Mr.  Barton,  requesting  me  to  call  around  im- 
mediately, but  without  stating  the  purpose  of  his 
call. 

Throwing  on  my  cloak,  I  followed  the  man,  and 
was  soon  at  his  apartments  ;  an  elegantly-furnished 
suite  of  rooms  in  Bleecker-street. 

I  found  him  with  two  shocking  black  eyes,  and 
some  severe  cuts  about  his  face,  the  evident  conse- 
quences of  a  hard  fist  well  planted  on  his  head. 

In  the  name  of  goodness,  Mr.  Barton,"  I  said, 
"  where  have  you  been,  and  what  have  you  been 
doing,  to  get  such  a  pair  of  black  eyes  ?" 

"  Go  on,  and  fix  me  up,  Doctor,  and  I  will  tell  you 
all  about  it." 

Accordingly,  I  lanced  his  eyes,  and  having  ordered 
some  raw  oysters  to  be  placed  over  them,  dressed  the 


144        The   Second  Marriage. 

other  cuts  about  his  face  ;  and,  while  thus  engaged, 
he  told  me  that  during  the  evening  he  was  at  a  well- 
known  restaurant  with  a  friend,  and,  after  having 
theu"  supper,  they  stood  at  the  bar  waiting  for 
the  change,  engaged  in  conversation. 

While  thus  engaged,  a  tall,  brawny-looking  man, 
having  the  appearance  of  a  sailor,  though  he  was 
well  dressed,  came  up  to  him,  and  asked  him  if  his 
name  was  Mr.  Barton,  to  which  he  replied  in  the 
affirmative,  and  without  a  word  he  went  at  him,  and 
before  he  had  time  to  put  himself  on  his  guard,  beat 
him  most  terribly,  as  I  could  see  for  myself. 

"  Well,  that  was  strange,"  I  said  ;  "did  you  ever 
see  him  before  ?" 

"  IN'o  ;  and  I  don't  know  now  who  he  is,  or  what 
earthly  cause  he  had  for  attacking  me.  As  soon  as 
he  was  taken  off,  for  he  was  nearly  twice  as  large  as 
myself,  I  gave  him  in  charge  to  the  police,  and  he 
was  taken  to  the  Tombs." 

"  Now,  I  want  you  to  do  me  a  favor,  Doctor,"  he 
continued  ;  "I  don't  want  to  prosecute  the  poor 
devil,  though  I  could  send  him  to  the  '  Island'  for  this  ; 
will  you  go  to  the  Tombs  in  the  morning,  for  me,  for 
I  would  not  go  out  with  this  face  for  an  hundred 
dollars,  and  just  whisper  to  the  magistrate  what  I 
have  told  you.     I  wont  prosecute  him,  but  just 


Mr.  Barton's   Adventure.  145 

have  him  bound  over  to  keep  the  peace.  He  can't 
get  bail,  I  am  sure,  and  a  few  days  in  the  cells  there 
will  cure  him  of  his  fighting  propensity.  As  soon  as 
I  can  get  out,  I  will  go  and  have  him  let  out  myself, 
on  his  own  surety." 

Of  course,  I  promised  to  do  as  he  desired,  and  was 
about  to  take  my  leave,  when  he  called  me  back, 
and  raising  one  of  the  poultices  from  his  swollen  eye, 
said,  "  Doctor,  you  must  manage  this  at  the  house 
for  me.  I  wouldn't  have  the  old  gentleman  see  me 
with  a  pair  of  black  eyes  for  half  New- York.  Make 
it  a  bilious  fever,  or  any  thing  you  like  ;  but  if  any 
of  them  talk  of  coming  to  see  me,  do  you  forbid  it, 
professionally.    You  take,  eh 

"  Oh,  perfectly  ;"  and  with  an  inward  chuckle,  I 
took  my  leave  ;  for  really  I  was  at  heart  not  at  all 
sorry  that  he  had  got  his  just  desert,  for  I  had  then 
no  doubt  that  he  had  been  trying  to  play  the  buHy 
over  some  one  whom  he  thought  was  a  safe  customer, 
and  had  caught  a  Tartar. 

I  did  not  believe  a  word  of  his  sailor  story  ;  but 
as  I  had  promised,  and  to  satisfy  my  own  curiosity, 
I  meant  to  keep  my  promise,  and  to  attend  at  the 
Tombs  in  the  morning. 

I  arrived  there  before  the  regular  business  of  the 
day  had  commenced,  and  being  well  acquainted  with 
T 


146 


The   Second  ^Marriage. 


the  sitting  magistrate,  obtained  a  private  interview, 
detailing  to  him  the  occurrence  as  narrated  by- 
Barton,  and  concluding  by  asking  that  he  would  be 
content  to  bind  the  offender  over  to  keep  the 
peace. 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  he  said,  "  if  the  complainant  don't 
appear,  I'll  do  it  in  here.  Sit  still.  Doctor,  and  I'll 
have  the  man  brought  up,"  and  he  left  the  room  to 
give  the  necessary  orders. 

A  few  moments  were  passed  by  us  in  general  con- 
yersation,  when  an  officer  ushered  in  a  tall,  stalwart, 
noble-looking  young  man,  about  twenty  or  two-and- 
twenty  years  of  age.  He  was,  as  Barton  had  said, 
"  decently  dressed,"  though  the  sailor  stuck  out  at 
every  corner,  and  he  looked,  as  he  undoubtedly  was, 
a  perfect  Hercules  in  strength.  I  did  not  at  all 
wonder  at  the  appearance  of  Barton's  face,  but  was 
rather  surprised  that  he  survived  at  all  the  sledge- 
hammer blows  which  such  a  man,  when  enraged, 
could  inflict. 

"My  man,"  said  the  magistrate,  "you  acted  very 
foolishly,  last  night  ;  I  dare  say  you  were  a  httle  the 
worse  for  liquor.  Just  ashore,  eh,  and  off  on  a 
spree  ?" 

"  Not  a  bit  of  it,  sir  ;  I  was  as  sober  as  I  am  now, 
and  would  do  the  same  thing  again.    If  you  don't 


Mr.  Barton's   Advexture.  147 

believe  me,  just  bring  that  fellow  here,  and  give  me 
five  minutes  alone  with  him." 

I  thought  Barton  would  stand  a  poor  chance  even 
for  five  minutes,  but  said  nothing. 

"  The  gentleman  who  was  so  brutally  assaulted, 
declines  to  prosecute  you," 

"  He  is  no  gentleman,  sir,"  said  the  sailor,  firmly, 
yet  with  respect ;  ''he  is  a  liar,  a  scoundrel,  and  a 
villain  ;  and  it  won't  do  any  good  to  bind  me  over  to 
keep  the  peace,  for  if  I  catch  him,  I'll  " 

"  There,  you  must  not  talk  so  ^  I  must  bind  you 
over  to  keep  the  peace  for  six  months,  I  want  bail 
in  three  hundred  dollars,"  said  the  magistrate,  desiring 
to  end  the  matter  at  once, 

"  Make  it  three  thousand,  Judge  ;  I  can  get  one 
as  easy  as  the  other.  I  see — it's  all  right  ;  I  under- 
stand the  game.  Judge,  I  can't  get  bail,  and  that's 
the  end  of  it." 

"Then  I  must  commit  you,  temporarily.  Have 
you  no  friends  who  would  go  your  bail  for  such  a 
small  sum  ?" 

"  Not  one  whom  I  would  ask." 

*'Then  I  must  commit  you  ;  I  dare  say,  when  they 
find  out  where  you  are,  you'll  get  bail  fast  enough," 
and  he  went  into  the  office  to  procure  a  blank  com- 
mitment. 


148       The   Second  Marriage. 

While  he  was  gone,  the  sailor  sat  down  at  the 
table,  leaning  his  head  upon  his  hands,  but  not  even 
honoring  me  with  a  look. 

The  magistrate  returned,  and  commenced  filling  up 
the  blank.  What  is  the  name  ?"  he  said,  to  the  pris- 
oner. 

"  George  Seaton  ;  and  I  ain't  ashamed  of  it,"  was 
the  reply. 

"  Well,  George,"  said  the  magistrate,  with  an  air 
of  compassion,  "  I  am  really  sorry  to  see  a  fine-looking 
fellow  Uke  yourself  in  such  a  fix.  But  I  must  do  it." 

"There," — and  he  finished  the  commitment,  and 
was  in  the  act  of  rapping  for  an  ofiQcer,  when  I 
arrested  his  uplifted  arm. 

"Make  out  a  bail-piece.  Judge;  I  will  go  his 
security,"  and  as  I  spoke,  the  sailor  raised  his  head, 
and  looked  at  me  searchingly,  while  the  magistrate 
could  not  repress  his  astonishment. 

"  I  suppose  you  know — "  he  said. 

"  I  know  all  about  it ;  I  will  go  his  bail  for  any 
amount  you  fix,  to  which  I  can  respond." 

"I  tell  you  what.  Mister,"  said  the  sailor,  rising 
and  fairly  glaring  at  me,  "  if  you  belong  to  the  same 
gang  as  that  fellow  I  thrashed  last  night,  you'd 
better  let  me  go  to  prison — I  wouldn't  have  your 
bail." 


Mr.  Barton^s  Adventure.  149 

"  !N"ever  fear,  my  fine  fellow,"  I  said  ;  "  Judge, 
"make  out  the  bail-piece." 

It  was  soon  done,  and  I  left  the  oflfice  in  company 
with  George. 

As  we  descended  the  steps,  he  said  to  me,  Pd 
like  to  know  what  all  this  means  ?" 

"Never  mind  questions,  now.  Come  with  me  ;  I 
want  to  ask  you  a  few,"  and  in  silence  I  led  him  to 
my  own  ofiice,  and  having  locked  the  door  to  prevent 
interruption,  I  told  him  to  be  seated,  a  direction 
which  he  obeyed  with  a  kind  of  dogged  obstinacy. 

"  Your  name  is  George  Seaton  ?" 
You  heard  me  say  so." 

"  Your  father  was  a  ship  carpenter  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  He  was  killed  by  falling  from  a  staging,  in  the 
ship-yard  where  he  was  at  work  ?" 

"Well,  he  was  ;  but  I'd  like  to  know  how  you 
know  so  much  ?" 

"  Where  is  your  mother  ?" 

"  I  can't  find  out ;  I've  only  been  ashore  these 
three  days,  and  have  been  hunting  for  her  ever  since. 
The  old  woman  has  moved  smce  I  went  away,  and  I 
can't  find  her,  high  or  low." 

"  And  your  sister  Julia  ?" 

"  Look  here,  Mister  ;  you  are  coming  too  near 


160 


The   Second  Marriage. 


home.     Do  you  know  why  I  thrashed  that  long- 
tailed  monkey  last  night  ?" 
"  No  ;  but  I  can  guess.'' 

"  Well,  I  won't  leave  you  to  guess  ;'  I  overheard 
him  speaking  of  Julia,  in — " 

"There  ;  I  told  you  I  guessed,  and  now  let  me 
tell  you  something.  First  George,  I  honor  you  for 
what  you  have  done  ;  he  won't  forget  you  in  many  a 
day.  Your  mother,  I  am  sorry  to  say,  is  dead  ;  I 
attended  her  in  her  last  sickness." 

"  You  did  ;  is  she  gone  ?  Are  you  a  doctor  ?" 
he  asked,  incoherently,  as  the  tears  gathered  in  his 
eyes  and  coursed  down  his  sunburnt  cheeks  ;  "God 
bless  you  ;"  and  he  hid  his  face  in  his  hands,  weeping 
with  uncontrollable  emotion. 

"  Poor  old  soul — dear  good  mother,  to  think  I 
wasn't  there.    Did  you  ever  hear  her  speak  of  me  ?" 

"Often  and  often,  George,  and  always,  as  I  am 
sure  you  have  deserved,  as  a  dutiful  and  affectionate 
son.  But,  come,  George,  be  a  man ;  what  can't  be 
cured  must  be  endured.  Of  course  you  want  to  see 
Julia." 

"  You  needn't  ask  that." 

"  Well,"  and  I  wrote  her  address  on  one  of  my  own 
cards,  "you  will  find  her  there.  Don't  forget  to  show 
her  both  sides  of  the  card,"  I  said,  as  he  sprang  up 


Mr.  Barton's  Adventure.  151 


and  seized  his  bat  in  his  anxiety  to  discover  his  sister, 
"  and  mind  you,  George,  I  want  to  see  you  this  even- 
ing ;  will  you  come  around  ?" 

If  I'm  alive,  and  don't  get  in  the  Tombs  again." 
"  You  need  not  be  afraid  of  that ;  Mr.  Barton 
wont  show  his  face  out  of  doors  for  a  month  to 
come." 

"  You  don't  say  ;  well,  he  got  off  cheap  at  that,  I 
can  tell  you." 

"  There,  go  along,  see  Julia  ;  she  will  tell  you 
who  I  am  ;  and  when  you  come  to-night,  I  will  tell 
you  why  I  bailed  you  out,  if  she  does  not." 

He  hardly  paused  to  thank  me,  but  snatched  up 
his  hat,  and  with  a  squeeze  of  the  hand  which  re- 
minded me  of  hun  for  the  entire  day,  darted  out  of 
the  office. 


CHAPTER  XIY. 


PLOT    AND  COUNTERPLOT. 

Matters  had  gone  on  thus  far  very  quietly,  and 
I  had  now  begun  to  turn  about  in  my  mind  how  I 
should  legin  the  ending  of  the  affair. 

I  was  an  occasional  visitor  at  Mrs.  Marvin's,  and 
am  now  free  to  acknowledge  that  my  interest  in  her 
grew  more  and  more  absorbing  every  day  ;  so  much 
so,  I  do  not  know  but  I  caught  myself  wishing  more 
than  once  that  Davy  Jones'  locker — that  receptacle 
for  the  lost  things  and  beings  of  the  sea,  had  caught 
her  husband,  too.  But  when  I  called  to  mind  the 
open-hearted  frankness  with  which  she  invariably  re- 
ceived me,  and  the  sincere  cordiahty  of  her  welcome 
upon  all  occasions,  I  felt  that  such  thoughts  were  as 
unworthy  of  my  professed  friendship  for  her,  as  they 
were  unjust  to  herself  ;  her  character  was  so  pure  and 
spotless,  her  conduct  so  irreproachable,  her  manners 
so  confiding,  I  felt  that  even  to  love  her  was  sinful. 


Plot  and   Counterplot.  153 

and  to  have  breathed  a  word  of  love,  would  have 
been  the  height  of  infamy. 

1  had  never  yet  breathed  to  her  a  word  of  what 
I  heard  from  John,  Dinah,  or  Julia  Seaton,  but  since 
I  had  heard  their  narratives,  my  conduct  and  man- 
ners, when  in  her  presence,  had  undergone  a  marked 
change,  I  was  gayer — more  lively  in  my  conversa- 
tion, and,  indeed,  every  thing  about  me  was  so  altered, 
she  could  not  fail  to  notice  it. 

How  could  I  feel  otherwise  ?  I  knew  that  a  day 
of  brightness  and  happiness  was  soon  to  dawn  for 
her — that  her  sorrow  would  be  changed  into  joy, 
her  garments  of  mourning  for  the  habiliments  of 
peace.  At  times  she  seemed  to  catch  an  inspiration 
from  me,  and  then  her  clear,  ringing  laugh,  was  very 
music  to  my  soul.  Her  countenance  would  light  up 
with  a  bright  and  joyous  smile,  such  as  was  wont,  I 
doubted  not,  to  shed  joy  and  gladness  over  her 
father's  house  and  heart ;  such  as  would  now,  if  he 
had  but  the  courage  to  break  the  meshes  of  the  net 
which  compassed  him,  have  made  his  heart  leap 
within  him  for  joy. 

As  I  was  specially  anxious  that  Mrs.  Evarts  should 
not  entertain  any  suspicion  that  my  intercourse  with 
Mrs.  Marvin  was  continued,  I  was  more  than  ever  a 
frequent  visitor  at  the  house. 

7* 


154       The   Second  Marriage. 

Barton,  who  seemed  deeply  grateful  to  me  for  the 
part  I  had  acted  in  the  affair  with  George  Seaton, 
and  for  the  manner  hi  which  I  had  professionally  con- 
cealed all  knowledge  of  it  from  the  family,  treated 
me  with  more  than  even  his  wonted  courtesy,  and  let 
me  into  his  mtimate  confidence. 

He  informed  me  of  his  approaching  nuptials  with 
Mattie,  and  of  the  brilliant  prospects  held  out  to  him 
by  the  alliance,  as  it  would,  in  all  probability,  insure 
him  an  interest  in  Mr.  Evarts'  business. 

I  taxed  him,  laughingly,  with  having  been  a  sad 
fellow  ;  but  he  shrugged  his  shoulders,  and  treated 
his  infamous  conduct  as  though  it  had  been  something 
of  which  he  might  feel  proud.  He  was  careful  never 
to  mention  any  names  to  me  ;  and  if  he  had  even 
named  the  poor  deserted  Helen,  I  was  so  well  pre- 
pared, I  should  not  have  exhibited  any  surprise. 

But  my  time  was  soon  to  come,  and  I  was  looking 
forward  to  the  hour  when  I  should  feel  at  liberty  to 
bring  matters  to  a  crisis,  when  every  thing  was  nearly 
ruined,  one  day,  by  my  accidental  meeting  with  Mrs. 
Evarts  in  the  sick  chamber  of  John. 

She  had  called  up  to  see,  as  she  said,  how  he  was 
getting  on,  and  the  start  which  she  gave  on  meeting 
me  in  that  place,  had  nearly  thrown  me  off  my  guard. 

I  quickly  recovered  myself,  and  giving  John  a  look 


Plot  and   Counterplot.  156 

which  I  knew  he  dared  not  disobey,  I  opened  upon 
her  by  accusing  her  of  insincerity  in  the  professions 
of  friendship  she  had  so  often  made  to  me. 
"  How  ?"  she  inquired. 

"  By  permitting  any  one  but  myself  to  attend  a 
person  in  whom  you  take  an  interest,  unless  indeed'^ — 
and  I  bowed  with  humihty — ''you  distrusted  my  abil- 
ity to  be  of  any  service," 

''  So  far  from  that,  Doctor,  it  was  only  because  I 
knew  that  your  time  was  so  well  and  profitably  em- 
ployed in  your  extensive  practice,  it  would  have  been 
unkind  in  me  to  have  asked  your  attendance  upon  a 
patient  who  has  nothing  to  render  but  thanks  in 
return." 

"  I  should  have  been  paid  in  the  feeling  that  I  had 
served  you,"  I  replied  ;  but  the  lie  almost  cnoked  me. 

"  Come,  come.  Doctor,  no  compliments  here,  if  you 
please,"  and  she  looked  any  thing  but  displeased. 
"  How  do  you  find  John  ?  and  how  did  you  come  to 
be  here  at  all  ?"  she  asked,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  Oh,  he  is  getting  on  slowly,"  I  answered,  in  the 
same  tone,  determined  that  I  would  finish  my  business 
that  day;  for  delays  would  very  likely  prove  dangerous, 
now  I  had  her  to  deal  with.  "  As  to  how  I  am  here, 
Doctor  D.  was  somewhat  alarmed,  and  fearing  he  did 
not  fully  understand  the  case,  sent  for  me  in  consulta- 


156 


The   Second  Marriage. 


tion.  He  is  out  of  town,  for  a  few  days,  and  I  am 
here  as  his  substitute  ;  I  hope  you  feel  that  he  is  safe 
in  my  hands." 

"  Perfectly,"  she  replied  ;  "we  have  had  so  many 
evidences  of  your  skill,  how  could  I  doubt  it  ?"  and  I 
bowed  to  the  compliment — not  daring  to  trust  myself 
with  any  more  words  than  were  necessary,  for  I  well 
knew  the  desperate  character  of  the  game  I  was 
playing. 

After  a  few  common-place  remarks  to  me,  and  a 
few  words  of  encouragement  to  John,  she  took  her 
leave,  insisting  that  I  should  make  an  early  call, 
which  I  promised  to  do. 

Almost  immediately  after  her  departure — so  soon, 
indeed,  I  dreaded  lest  she  had  seen  him  enter — my 

friend  D  entered  ;  and  giving  him  a  private  sign, 

which  he  understood,  we  approached  the  bedside  of 
the  patient,  and  after  a  long  examination  and  many 
whispers,  we  retired  with  awfully  solemn  faces  into 
the  next  apartment. 

Briefly,  I  made  known  to  him  my  meeting  with 
Mrs.  Evarts,  and  the  necessity  for  instant  action,  ere 
we  were  thwarted  by  her  ;  and  having  received  his 
assent,  we  returned  to  the  patient  with  faces  long 
enough  to  have  frightened  a  healthy  man. 

"Now,  John,"  said  D  ,  taking  his  pulse,  "tell 


Plot  and  Counterplot.  151 

us  the  truth — have  you  obeyed  our  directions 
implicitly  ?" 

"I  am  sure  I  have,"  he  said,  trembling  like  an 
aspen  leaf,  and  the  cold  sweat  starting  at  every  pore. 

"  Was  the  medicine  given  every  hour  last  night,  as 
I  directed  ?"  he  asked,  turning  to  his  wife,  who  stood 
behind  him,  pale  and  trembhng. 

"'No,  Doctor,  I  would  not  wake  him  up,  he  was 
sleeping  so  nicely,  and  he  has  not  had  any  from  ten 
o'clock  last  night  until  near  daylight." 

"Just  as  I  feared,"  he  said,  turning  to  me  with  a 
look  of  the  most  profound  anxiety ;  "I  am  sure  I 
was  very  particular  in  the  directions." 

"Shm'e,  and,  Doctor,"  she  fau'ly  howled,  ''you 
wouldn't — " 

"  Hold  your  tongue — see  how  you  frighten  your 
husband,"  I  said,  for  John  turned  such  an  ashy  pale- 
ness, and  his  lips  grew  so  colorless,  I  was  really  afraid 
he  would  die  on  the  spot. 

Beckoning  to  my  friend,  D          and  I  stepped 

aside,  where  we  pretended  to  whisper  very  mysteri- 
ously, and,  approaching  the  bed  again,  I  said  : 

"John,  your  failure  to  follow  our  directions  may 
prove  very  serious.  There,  don't  be  frightened,  man," 
I  said,  seeing  that  he  was  fau-ly  gasping  for  breath  ; 


158       The  Second  Marriage. 

"  I  do  not  say  that  there  is  any  immediate  danger, 
but  you  are  a  very  sick  man." 

With  a  crroan  which  ought  to  have  made  me  repent 
of  my  cruelty,  and  which  would,  if  Cora  Marvin  had 
not  just  then  risen  up  before  me,  he  drew  the  bed- 
clothes over  his  head,  and  for  an  instant  lay  so  mo- 
tionless, I  feared  he  had  actually  died  of  fright. 

In  an  instant,  he  threw  them  off,  and  half  rising  in 
bed,  raised  his  clasped  hands,  and  with  an  expression 
of  terror  and  anguish,  exclaimed — "  Oh,  Doctor, 
Doctor — save  me ;  you  can,  you  know  you  can  ; 
don't  let  me  die." 

"  There,  there— lie  down,"  said  D  ,  forcing  him 

gently  on  the  pillow  ;  don't  get  so  excited — we 
will  do  all  we  can.  Doctor  S.  has  told  you  there  is 
no  immediate  danger,  but  you  must  be  careful,  and 
not  get  so  excited.  You  know  that  every  man  must 
die  once,  and  if  there  is  any  thing  you  wish  to  arrange, 
it  is  well  enough  to  do  it.  Mind,  I  repeat  there  is 
not  any  immediate  danger,  provided  our  directions 
are  implicitly  obeyed,"  and  turning  to  me,  I  assented, 
of  course. 

"  But  you  must  remain  perfectly  quiet,  and  place 
entire  confidence  in  us." 

John  listened  to  us  with  an  expression  of  wildness, 
which  under  other  circumstances  would  have  been 


Plot  and   Counterplot.  159 

ludicrous,  but  which  was  really  painful  to  behold  ; 
and  gazing  at  us  alternately  with  doubting  looks, 
both  at  the  same  instant  caught  the  idea  that  he  was 
debating  within  himself  whether  or  not  to  make  a 
clean  breast  of  it,  when  seeing  my  chance,  I  said — 

Now,  John,  I  want  to  ask  you  one  question,  and 
you  must  tell  me  the  truth,  for  I  am  convinced  you 
know  all  about  it.  What  has  become  of  Mr.  Evarts' 
daughter.  Miss  Cora  ?" 

As  God  is  my  judge,  I  do  not  know." 
"  Yes,  but  you  do  know  how  she  came  to  leave  her 
father's  house — I  know  that  much,  and  I  know  that 
you  had  a  hand  in  it.  I  know  there  was  a  plot  to 
ruin  that  poor  girl,  and  that  you  aided  in  it.  I  know 
enough,  John,  if  you  do  recover,  to  send  you  where 
you  would  be  very  sorry  to  go.  Ilsow,  tell  us  the 
truth,  for  surely  you  would  not  dare  to  die  with  such 
a  sin  upon  your  soul — tell  us  the  whole  truth,  and 
we  pledge  ourselves  that  no  harm  shall  ever  come  to 
you.    Surely  Cora  never  harmed  or  injured  you 

"Indeed  indeed,  she  never  did,"  he  said,  dashing 
away  the  tears  which  my  words  had  called  to  his 
eyes.  "  She  was  the  sweetest  and  best  girl  that  ever 
lived." 

How  could  you  then,  tell  such  infamous  lies 
about  her.    How  could  you,  John  ?" 


160 


The    vS  e  c  o  n  d   ]M  a  r  r  i  a  g  e 


**  Oh  !  it  was  wrong — I  know  it  was  wrong.  It 
was  wicked,  but  God  knows  I  have  sorrowed  for  it. 
It  was  all  through  Mrs.  Evarts." 

A  glance  of  intelligence  passed  between  the  Doctor 
and  myself,  but  he  went  on  without  noticing  it.  **It 
was  indeed  all  through  her." 

"  Come,  John,  tell  us  all  about  it.  Don't  be 
afraid  of  her.  She  cannot  harm  you,  if  she  dare,  and 
I  pledge  you  my  word  of  honor  to  screen  you  from 
any  thing  she  may  say  or  do." 

"You  won't  let  me  die,  will  you,  gentlemen? 
You  will  cure  me,  won't  you  ?"  he  asked,  in  a  tone 
struggling  between  the  agony  of  fear,  and  half-re- 
newed hope. 

"  John,  we  will  do  our  very  best.  I  tell  you  again 
there  is  no  immediate  danger,  and  I  have  no  doubt 
of  your  recovery  if  you  will  keep  perfectly  quiet  and 
follow  our  directions.  We  thought  it  our  duty  to 
tell  you  what  we  did,  but  really  there  is  no  cause 
now  for  such  alarm." 

This  re-assured  him,  and  closing  his  eyes  and  clasp- 
ing his  hands,  he  lay  quiet  for  a  few  moments,  and 
then  beckoning  us  to  be  seated,  he  made  a  clean 
breast  of  it  mdeed,  confirming  all  my  suspicions  as  to 
Mrs.  Evarts'  conduct  throughout. 

With  my  consent,  Dr.  D.  took  down  his  statement 


Plot   and  Counterplot. 


161 


in  writing,  and  I  do  not  know  as  I  ever  experienced 
such  a  thrill  of  exquisite  pleasure  as  when  I  placed 
my  name  beneath  my  friend's,  as  a  witness  to  his  sig- 
nature, for  it  was  the  realization  of  my  long-cherished 
hopes,  and  insured  a  perfect  triumph  over  her  ene- 
mies for  Cora  Marvin. 


CHAPTER  XY. 


ANOTHER  DISCOVERY. 

"  Now  then,  Tom,"  said  my  friend,  as  we  left  the 
house,  "  what  is  your  next  move  ?  Fate  and  Provi- 
dence have  wonderfully  befriended  you  in  this  mat- 
ter." 

"  First,  my  friend,  I  will  thank  you  for  the  kind- 
ness you  have  displayed  throughout  in  this  affair,  for 
without  your  assistance  I  could  not  have  accomplished 
thus  much.  Next,  I  shall  go  to  Mrs.  Marvin's,  and 
give  her  at  least  an  inkling  of  what  has  been  going 
on,  and  what  she  may  expect.  It  will  not  do  to  tell 
her  too  much  at  once,  for  I  would  not  for  the  world 
excite  hopes  which  I  may  be  unable  to  realize. 
Would  you  like  to  go  with  me — you  have  earned  a 
fair  share  of  the  pleasure  I  anticipate." 

"  Not  now — some  other  time.  My  presence  may 
be  necessary  hereafter,  and  it  will  be  as  well  for  me 
not  to  have  known  too  much.  It  is  better,  I  think, 
that  she  should  not  see  me  at  all,  at  present." 

"  I  believe  you  are  right,"  I  said,  though  I  knew 


Another  Discovery. 


163 


not  why.  "  Now  I  must  leave  you.  I  will  meet 
you  at  John's  to-morrow." 

''^so,  you  won't.  You  will  take  tea  with  me  to- 
night, for  I  want  to  hear  how  the  news  you  bring  is 
received  " 

"  As  you  say,"  and  I  left  him. 

I  was  not  long  in  reaching  Mrs.  Marvin's,  and  my 
excited  manner  and  flushed  cheeks  told  her  that 
something  unusual  had  occurred.  In  truth,  my  de- 
light was  too  great  for  concealment,  and  after  the 
first  salutations,  Clarence  having  established  himself 
in  his  accustomed  quarters  on  my  knee,  she  said  : 

"Something  has  occurred  to-day,  Doctor,  which 
seems  to  give  you  great  pleasure.  You  look  so 
happy,  I  really  almost  feel  so  myself.  I  do  not 
know  how,  or  why  it  is,  but  ever  since  your  last  visit 
I  have  had  an  unusual  flow  of  spirits.  It  seemed  as 
if  I  could  not  repress  them  ;  my  heart  has  been  un- 
accountably light.  Who  knows  but  my  husband 
will  be  home  soon,  and  then  my  troubles  will  be 
over." 

"  Who  knows,  indeed,"  I  said,  almost  blurting  out 
the  object  of  my  visit,  and  blushing  to  think  how 
little  her  husband's  presence  was  connected  with  my 
present  happiness  ;  "  but  suppose  we  do  not  wait  for 
his  arrival  to  end  your  troubles  ?" 


164        The   Second  Marriage. 

"  Doctor,"  she  said,  her  countenance  changing 
suddenly  to  an  expression  of  doubt,  "  you  are  not 
trifling  with  me  ?  you  have  not  been  in  the  habit  of 
doing  so." 

"  Well,  I  won't  begin  now,  Mrs.  Marvin,  you 
may  be  assured  ;  could  you  receive  some  good  news, 
without  ?" 

"  Dear  Doctor,  don't  keep  me  in  suspense,"  she 
said,  not  permittmg  me  to  finish  my  sentence  ;  "  has 
my  father  sent  for  me,  and  is  he  convinced  of  my 
innocence  ?" 

"He  has  not  sent  for  you,  Mrs.  Marvin,  but  he  will 
very  do  it  soon,  or  I  am  a  poor  judge  of  human 
nature  ;  and  as  for  the  rest,  I  can  pledge  my  word 
that  he  will  be  soon  as  entirely  convinced  of  your 
innocence,  as  I  have  been  from  the  first." 

"  God  grant  it,"  she  said,  raising  her  eyes  heaven- 
ward. 

"  There,  read  that ;"  and  I  handed  to  her  the 
statement  just  received  from  John. 

With  moistened  eyes  and  trembling  hands  she 
opened  the  paper,  and  a  glance  at  the  first  few  hues 
were  all  that  were  needed  to  tell  her  the  contents. 
She  did  not  wait  to  finish  its  perusal,  but  extending 
both  hands  to  me,  with  a  countenance  fairly  beaming 
with  happiness,  she  exclaimed,    how  can  I  thank 


Another  Discovery. 


165 


you,  my  kind,  my  noble  friend,  for  your  generous 
sympathy  and  aid." 

I  did  not  come  here  for  your  thanks,  and  don't 
want  them  until  I  have  finished  my  work.  All  I 
want  of  you  is  to  dry  your  eyes,  and  obey  my 
directions  for  the  future,  no  matter  what  they  may 
be." 

"  Could  I  do  otherwise.  Doctor,"  she  said,  still 
retaining  my  hands,  and  pressing  them  with  a  fervor 
which,  while  it  spoke  her  gratitude,  sent  the  blood 
tingling  to  the  ends  of  my  fingers,  "  how  can  I  repay 
such  noble,  generous  kindness  to  a  poor  persecuted 
woman  ?" 

"  By  being  happy,  and  trusting  to  me  for  guidance, 
until  I  trust  you  to  walk  alone." 

"  But  I  have  not  half  done  yet ;"  and  I  proceeded 
to  recount  rapidly,  but  briefly,  what  I  had  heard 
from  Dinah. 

"  My  poor  abused  and  deceived  father,"  she  said, 
as  I  concluded,  "  how  will  he  receive  this  extraordi- 
nary disclosure,  and  he  so  proud  ?  But  is  this  all 
truth  ?  is  there  room  for  doubt  ?" 

"  Not  a  particle.  I  have  every  thing  so  arranged, 
that  when  the  proper  time  comes,  I  can  overwhelm 
her  so  suddenly  with  proof,  she  wUl  not  dare  even  to 
raise  her  voice  in  her  own  defence." 


166 


The   Second  Marriage 


"  But  more  yet.    Your  quondam  lover,  Barton  ;  I 
have  a  great  mind  to  let  him  finish  his  own  work,  and 
his  career  will  end  in  Sing  Sing." 
Why,  Doctor,  more  marvels  ?" 

"  Yes,  Madam,  more  marvels  ;  but  no  matter  for 
him  now  ;  you  don't  care  much  for  him,  and  you  will 
hear  all  about  him  in  due  season." 

"  Is  he  renlly  cousin  to  Martha  ?" 

"  No  more  than  you  are  mine.  He  knows  as 
much  about  Mrs.  Evarts  and  Mattie  as  Dinah  does, 
and  is  only  playing  a  deep  game  to  deceive  your 
father.  But  it  requires  two  to  play  at  his  game,  and 
I  hold  the  leading  trumps.  Oh,  Madam,  you  will 
hear  a  grand  explosion  yet,  when  I  touch  the  match 
to  the  magazine.  But  I  have  one  thing  yet  to  ac- 
complish, and  that  is  with  Julia  ;  she  is  as  much  like 
her  mistress  as  pea  is  like  pea,  and  she  knows  too 
much  for  me,  I  am  afraid.  However,  with  this 
statement  of  John  to  back  me,  I  will  try,  if  I  can 
only  get  a  chance  to  see  her." 

"  But  you  must  not  anticipate  too  much.  I  have 
told  you  more  than  I  ought,  though  I  could  not  resist 
the  temptation  of  seeing  you  smile  again." 

"  Dear,  kind  friend,"  she  said,  and  my  equanimity 
was  entirely  upset,  when  she  threw  herself  on  my 


/ 


Another  Discovery.  167 

neck,  shedding  tears  of  happiness,  and  sobbmg  as  if 
her  heart  would  break. 

To  say  that  I  was  entirely  unmoved  would  be  un- 
true. I  wept  myself,  without  knowing  why,  and  at 
length  feehng  that  if  I  stayed  much  longer  I  might 
say  something  for  which  I  might  have  to  repent  in 
sackcloth  and  ashes,  I  placed  her  gently  on  a  chair, 
and  bidding  her  be  of  good  cheer,  I  took  my  leave, 
with  a  heart  as  hght  and  gay  as  though  I  had  really 
achieved  something  to  be  proud  of. 

That  same  eveniog  saw  me  at  Mrs.  Evarts',  and 
while  waiting  in  the  parlor  for  the  ladies  to  come 
down,  J ulia  brought  in  the  shade  to  put  over  the  gas- 
light which  hung  over  the  centre-table. 

"Julia,"  I  said,  hastily,  "  I  have  a  letter  to  you, 
from  John  ;  will  you  come  to  my  office  in  the  morn- 
ing, and  get  it  ?  He  wanted  me  to  give  it  to  you 
without  any  one  knowing  it." 

Her  face  turned  crimson,  and  she  evinced  a  con- 
fusion, which  told  me  too  truly  of  her  comphcity 
with  him,  but  I  did  not  give  any  sign  that  I  observed 
her. 

"  I  wonder  what  he  can  have  to  say  to  me  ?  Yes, 
I  will  come." 

"  Be  there  at  nine  o'clock." 
I  will,"  she  said  ;  and  fortunately,  the  entrance 


168 


The  Second  Marriage. 


of  the  ladies  at  that  moment,  deprived  her  of  the  op- 
portunity of  asking  any  questions.  I  knew  she  would 
come,  for  I  saw  that  her  curiosity  was  aroused. 

The  whole  family,  including  Mr.  Barton,  were 
assembled  on  that  evening,  and  I  was  in  such  an  un- 
usual flow  of  spirits,  as  to  attract  the  notice  of  all ; 
and  Mattie  inquired,  with  what  slie  meant  to  be  a 
very  naive  look,  if  I  had  "  popped  the  question  yet  ?" 
Of  course,  I  answered  in  the  same  strain  ;  and  when 
I  left  the  house,  all  declared  they  had  never  passed 
a  more  delightful  evening. 

"  After  a  calm  comes  a  storm,"  I  said  to  myself, 
as  I  left  the  house,  fully  convinced  that  when  I 
next  entered  it,  it  should  be  in  triumph,  and  with 
Cora  Marvin  by  my  side. 

The  next  morning,  prompt  at  the  hour,  Julia  kept 
her  promise  ;  and  as  she  entered,  hurriedly,  as  if  she 
had  stolen  ofif,  she  said,  throwing  up  her  veil,  "  Well, 
Doctor,  here  I  am." 

"  I  am  very  glad  to  see  you,  Julia,"  was  my  reply  ; 
and  I  told  the  truth,  for  she  could  furnish  the  last 
link  in  the  chain  of  evidence  to  convict  her  mistress 
of  her  infamy. 

Locking  the  door,  as  well  to  prevent  her  exit,  as 
the  intrusion  of  any  other  person,  I  approached  her 
with  threatening  looks,  and  holding  up  John's  confes- 


Another   Discovery.  169 

sion,  I  said  sternly,  while  she  looked  at  me,  actually 
without  moving  a  muscle  of  her  countenance,  "  Now, 
JuUa,  I  have  no  desire  to  send  a  fine,  smart  woman 
like  yourself,  to  Sing-Sing,  but  so  sure  as  you  do  not 
make  a  frank  and  full  confession  of  all  you  know 
about  Cora  Evarts,  so  sure  you  will  be  there  in  less 
than  a  r^onth." 

At  the  mention  of  Sing-Sing,  she  did  'change  color, 
almost  imperceptibly,  but  recovering  instantly  her 
self-possession,  she  said,  with  the  most  wonderful  non- 
chalance— 

Oh,  if  that's  what  you  wanted  to  see  me  about. 
Doctor,  all  I  have  got  to  say  is,  that  you  have 
missed  your  mark.  I  am  ready  to  go  as  soon  as  you 
choose  to  send  me,  and  you  always  know  where  to 
find  me.'' 

The  impudence — the  overpowering  assurance  of 
the  woman,  fairly  staggered  me  ;  but  I  knew  it  was 
my  last  chance,  and  I  was  determined  to  lose  nothing 
through  my  weakness  or  folly. 

Opening,  therefore,  the  statement  which  I  held  in 
my  hand,  I  approached  her,  and  said,  sternly,  Xow, 
Juha,  you  may  put  on  as  many  airs  as  you  Uke, 
and  you  may  look  as  innocent  as  you  choose,  but  I 
am  not  to  be  frightened  by  one  nor  deceived  by  the 
other,  and  this  paper  will  send  you  to  Sing-Sing,  as 
8 


no        The   Second  Marriage. 

sure  as  you  stand  there.  John,  who  is,  perhaps, 
dying,  has  made  a  full  confession  of  his  villainy  and 
lies  concerning  Mrs.  Evarts'  daughter.  Here  is  his 
statement,  and  he  declares  that  you  were  not  only 
fully  acquainted  wiih  every  thing,  but  was  his  accom- 
plice from  first  to  last,  and  like  him,  paid  by  Mrs. 
Evarts." 

"  That  is  plain  speaking,"  she  said,  with  a  gravity 
perfectly  wonderful  ;  "go  on.  Doctor." 

"  Now,  I  give  you  your  choice,"  I  said,  half- 
frightened  lest  I  should  have  been  deceived  after  all, 
''a  full  confession  or  Sing-Sing." 

"  I  tell  you  what.  Doctor,"  she  said,  with  flashing 
eyes,  "  you  are  wasting  your  time  with  me.  If  John 
has  chosen  to  make  up  a  parcel  of  lies  to  please  you, 
I  shan't  help  him  out,  I  can  tell  you — I  think  too 
much  of  myself  for  that." 

"  Well,  Julia,"  I  said,  determined  now  to  try  the 
coup-de-grdce,  I  am  so  thoroughly  convinced  of  your 
connection  with  the  plot  to  drive  Cora  from  her 
home,  I  shall  not  let  it  drop  until  you  have  proved 
your  innocence.  I  will  send  for  an  officer,  and  we 
will  go  to  the  Tombs  together  ;  the  magistrate  will  ex- 
amine into  the  matter,  and  if  you  are  innocent,  I  will 
bear  the  consequences  ;"  and  seatmg  myself,  I  penned 
a  note,  as  if  writing  for  an  officer. 


Another  Discovery.  171 

"  You  dare  not  do  it/'  she  said,  but  not  so  fiercely 
as  before. 

"  I  will  do  it,  and  take  all  the  risks  myself." 
"  Let  me  read  that  paper." 

"  I  will  read  it  to  you  ;  I  am  rather  afraid  to  trust 
it  in  your  hands,  as  John  might  die,  and — " 

"  Read  it  yourself,"  she  said,  impetuously  interrupt- 
ing me.  And  I  read  it  from  first  to  last,  not  omitting 
to  add  that  it  was  attested  by  two  credible  witnesses. 

''Now,  then,  tell  me  exactly  what  you  want  of  me.'' 

"  Tell  me  if  that  is  not  every  word  truth." 

''  Suppose  I  don't  choose  to,  what  then  ?" 

"  You  have  heard  what  I  said  before." 

"  You  want  me  to  sign  that  paper  ?" 

"  Exactly." 

"  Do  you  believe  it  is  true  ?" 
"  I  know  it  is." 

''  Will  you  pledge  yourself  to  bear  me  harmless  ?" 

"  On  my  honor,  I  will."  » 

"  Then  I  will  sign  it,  too,  for  every  word  is  true  ; 
but  how  did  you  find  it  out  ?" 

"That  is  a  matter  of  no  consequence  now  ;  you 
will  learn  that  in  good  season.  You  will  sign  it,  then  ?" 

"  I  will." 


"Wont  there  be  a  precious  time,"  she  said,  with  a 
low  chuckle,  while  I  was  wiiting  an  acknowledgement 


172        The   Second  Marriage. 

at  the  bottom  of  the  page,  for  her  signature  ;  "no 
matter — I've  kept  my  word,  so  far,  and  I  wont  go  to 
prison  for  her  or  anybody  else.  Come,  Doctor,  let 
me  sign  it." 

"  One  moment,  Juha,"  and  ringing  a  bell,  I  de- 
spatched a  servant  for  my  neighbor,  Mr.  J  ,  who 

followed  close  on  her  heels. 

"  Now,  Julia,  sign  that,"  I  said  ;  "  and,  Mr.  J  , 

please  witness  her  signature,  to  oblige  me." 

Hastily  reading  what  I  had  written,  she  signed  it 
without  any  hesitation,  and  it  was  duly  witnessed  by 
Mr.  J  ,  whom  I  thanked  for  his  attention. 

"Now,  Julia,"  said  I,  when  we  were  alone,  "I 
suppose  I  need  hardly  caution  you  against  saying 
any  thing  to  the  family,  and  I  emphasized  the  word." 

"  Trust  me  for  that,"  she  said,  with  a  low  laugh — 
"  she'll  hear  of  it  soon  enough,  I'll  warrant,  without 
me  ;  I  shan't  say  a  word,  I  promise  you  ;  I  don't 
bear  her  any  special  love.  True,  she  paid  me  well 
enough,  but  not  enough  to  make  up  for  Sing-Sing." 

"That's  all,  Julia?" 

"  You  wont  forget  your  promise  to  me.  Doctor  ?" 

"Never  fear — Mrs.  Evarts  won't  have  power  to 
harm  any  one  much  longer,  and  I  promise  no  one 
else  has  any  desire  to.  Will  Mr.  Barton  be  there, 
as  usual,  to-day  or  to-morrow  ?" 


Another  Discovery.  173 

''Yes,  every  day — and  all  night,  too,  for  all  I 
know,"  she  answered,  rather  spitefully. 

"  Well,  that  will  do,  Juha  ;  I  am  much  obliged  to 
you  for  your  candor." 

"You  need  not  be,"  she  said,  "I  never  did  it  of 
my  own  accord  ;  you  have  been  mighty  sharp  to  get 
ahead  of  that  woman,  but  I  guess  you've  done  it.  So 
good  morning,  Doctor,  and  success  to  you." 

As  my  evidence  was  now  completed,  it  was  time  to 
open  my  batteries  ;  and  my  first  care  was  to  request 
that  Mr.  Evarts  would  favor  me  with  a  call  that 
evening,  on  business  of  importance.  Accordingly,  I 
despatched  a  note  to  his  store,  marked  private, 
well  knowing  that  if  sent  to  the  house,  it  would  have 
been  opened  by  his  wife,  whose  suspicions  would  have 
been  instantly  aroused,  and  who  might  possibly  have 
thwarted  all  my  plans. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


FATHER  AND  DAUGHTER. 

I  WAS  not  deceived  in  my  conviction  that  Mr. 
Evarts  would  comply  with  my  request,  for  when  I 
reached  my  office,  late  in  the  afternoon,  I  found  him 
seated  there,  reading  one  of  my  medical  works. 

"  Well,  Doctor,  here  I  am,  you  see.  Now,  what 
is  it  so  private,  which  requires  my  attendance  on  your 
medical  highness  ?" 

"  Keep  your  seat,  Mr.  Evarts,"  I  said,  for  he  had 
risen  at  my  entrance.   "  Are  you  prepared  to  hear — " 

"  Good  God  !  is  she  dead  he  exclaimed,  show- 
ing at  once  the  current  of  his  thoughts  and  his 
anxiety  respecting  his  daughter,  and  he  sprang 
towards  me,  almost  gasping  for  breath  ;  then,  as  if 
ashamed  of  having  exhibited  so  much  emotion,  he 
sank  back  into  his  chair,  with  a  sort  of  sullen  obstin- 
acy, as  if  determined  not  to  be  so  moved  again. 

"  Far  from  it.  She  is  in  the  enjoyment  of  excel- 
lent health,  and  equally  good  spirits,  and,  unless  I  am 
very  much  mistaken,  in  less  than  an  hour  from  this 


Father  and  Daughter. 


115 


time  you  will  have  her  hanging  on  your  neck,  shedding 
tears  of  joy. 

"  Sir — Doctor — do  you  mean  to  insult  me  ?  Do 
you  know  what  you  are  saying  ?  Do  you  know  you 
are  speaking  on  a  forbidden  topic  ?" 

"  Perfectly,  and  that  is  the  reason  I  took  the 
liberty  of  sending  for  you  here,  where  we  might  con- 
verse in  private.    I  have  only  spoken  the  truth." 

''Now,  Mr.  Evarts,  curb  your  temper,"  I  con- 
tinued, calmly  but  earnestly,  "  don't  get  excited,  but 
listen  to  me  patiently,  and  when  I  have  done,  you 
may  say  or  do  just  what  you  choose." 

"  You  remember,"  I  proceeded,  "  that  one  day 
you  asked  me  what  I  thought  of  your  daughter,  and 
I  was  about  to  reply  that  I  believed  her  to  be  tlie 
victim  of  an  infamous  plot,  when  you  checked  me, 
and  refused  to  hear  any  more." 

I  remember,"  he  replied,  coldly,  as  if  he  did  not 
care  to  hear  it  repeated  now  ;  ''I  hope  you  are  not 
going  to — " 

"  There  you  go — impatient  before  I  have  begun. 
Now,  Mr.  Evarts,  you  must  hear  me — I  not  only 
wish  to  repeat  it,  but  to  prove  it  by  such  incon-  • 
testible  evidence,  you  dare  not  disbelieve  me  if  you 
would." 

"  You  speak  earnestly.  Doctor." 


1T6       The   Second  ^Marriage. 


"  1  am  very  earnest.    You  met  your  present  wife 
in  Savannab,  at  a  boarding-house  ?" 
I  did." 

"  You  knew  nothing  of  her  antecedents  at  all  ?" 

"  I  never  made  any  special  inquiries.  I  found  her 
an  inteUigent,  well-informed,  polished  lady — moving 
in  the  same  circle  with  myself  and  daughter,  and  as 
I  was  satisfied  on  acquaintance  that  she  would  make 
an  excellent  wife,  and  do  honor  to  my  name,  I  mar- 
ried her.  I  hope.  Doctor,  you  will  be  careful  when 
you  speak  of  her,  and  not  forget  that  she  is  my  wife, 
and  has  been  your  friend." 

"  Suppose,  Mr.  Evarts,  I  prove  to  you  that  she  is 
not  your  wife  at  all." 

Sir — su',"  and  he  fairly  gasped  for  breath,  "  what 
are  you  saying  ?  Do  you  know.  Doctor,  to  whom 
you  are  speaking  ?" 

"  Suppose  that  I  prove  to  you,"  I  continued,  with- 
out noticing  his  remark — "mind,  Mr.  Evarts,  I  say 
prove  to  you,  that  her  first  husband  is  Uving — is  an 
inmate  of  a  prison,  where  he  has  been  for  seven  years, 
and  where  he  must  end  his  days,  for  he  was  sen- 
tenced to  imprisonment  for  life  for  a  foul  and  cruel 
murder,  which  was  miscalled  manslaughter.  Suppose 
I  prove  that,  Mr.  Evarts  ?" 

He  could  not  make  any  reply.    His  face  was  ashy 


'Father   and   Daughter.  177 

pale,  and  his  lips  moved  tremulously,  but  no  sound 
came  forth. 

Suppose  I  show  you  that  this  Barton,  this  pre- 
tended nephew,  is  no  more  a  relation  than  I  am,  but 
the  blind  used  by  her  to  entrap  others  into  the  arms 
of  Mattie  ?" 

"  Go  on,  Doctor,"  he  found  voice  to  utter,  but  so 
feebly  I  could  hardly  hear  him. 

"  Suppose  I  prove  that  he  is  one  of  the  basest  and 
most  infamous  of  villains — that  he  was  married  two 
years  ago  to  a  young,  innocent,  and  artless  girl, 
whom  he  deserted  after  the  most  cruel  abuse,  pre- 
tending that  his  marriage  was  a  sham  ;  and  suppose 
I  prove  that  marriage  incontrovertibly." 

"  Suppose  I  prove  to  you,"  and  as  I  spoke  I  took 
from  my  pocket  the  statement  acknowledged  by  John 
and  Julia,  "  that  she  suborned  two  of  your  servants 
to  perjure  themselves  against  Cora.  That  every 
word  spoken  against  that  girl  was  a  vile,  infamous 
lie,  concocted  between  Mrs.  Evarts,  Barton,  and 
Mattie,  to  drive  her  from  your  house,  and  secure  her 
fortune  for  themselves  ?" 

Mr.  Evarts  made  no  reply,  but  holding  his  face  in 
his  hands,  groaned  aloud. 

"This  paper,  Mr.  Evarts,"  I  continued,  "  contains 
the  statement  of  those  servants,  duly  witnessed,  and 
8* 


Its       The   Second  Marriage. 

in  addition  to  this,  I  have  enough  to  overwhelm  the 
whole  of  them,"  and  I  tendered  it  to  him. 

"  Read  it,  Doctor,"  he  said,  shaking  his  head,  "  I 
cannot,"  and  I  saw  indeed  that  he  could  not,  for  his 
eyes  were  blinded  with  fast  falling  tears. 

Slowly  and  deliberately  I  read  it  through,  even  to 
the  names  of  the  witnesses,  and  as  I  folded  it  up  he 
said,  again  laying  his  face  in  his  hands,  the  tears 
forcing  themselves  through  his  clasped  fingers — "  my 
poor,  dear,  darling  Cora,  how  have  you  been  abused 
and  slandered  ?    What  reparation  can  I  make  ?" 

"  You  remember,  Mr.  Evarts,  the  morning  you 
called  on  me  with  the  fifty  dollars  for  your  daughter?" 

"  I  do." 

"  Well,  your  wife  had  not  been  out  of  my  office 
five  minutes,  when  you  entered  it.  She  came  there 
to  give  me  her  version  of  the  affair,  and  I  made  up 
my  mind  then,  that  every  word  she  had  told  me  was 
a  lie — a  black-hearted,  wilful,  mahgnant  lie.  I  saw 
Cora  that  very  evening,  and  having  heard  from  her 
own  lips,  the  story  of  her  wrongs  and  yours,  I  re- 
solved that  I  w^ould  bring  the  perpetrators  to  the 
Ught. 

"  Providence  has  befriended  me,  and  some  of  the 
discoveries  I  have  made  have  seemed  almost  miracu 
lous.    But  I  have  done  it.    I  am  prepared  at  everv 


Father   and   Daughter.  179 

point,  and  am  ready,  as  soon  as  you  say  the  word,  to 
commence  proceedings." 

"  You  surely  don't  mean  to  go  to  law,  Doctor," 
lie  said,  his  face  flushing  with  shame  at  the  bare 
possibihty  of  such  an  exposure  of  his  domestic  af- 
fairs. 

"  Oh,  no  ;  it  won't  need  the  aid  of  the  law  to  bring 
her  to  terms.  I  mean  to  make  known  to  her,  and 
her  precious  partners,  the  discoveries  I  have  made." 

Doctor,"  he  said,  rising,  and  grasping  my  hand, 
while  his  noble  form  actually  dilated  with  emotion,  ' '  I 
do  not  know,  and  at  present  will  not  inquire  how  you 
became  possessed  of  these  extraordinary  secrets.  My 
heart  tells  me  that  every  word  you  utter  is  truth.  I 
honor  and  appreciate  your  motives,  and  can  only  say 
now,  from  my  inmost  heart,  I  am  grateful  to  you. 
But  you  are  certain — there  can  be  no  doubt  as  to  the 
entire  accuracy  of  all  you  have  learned  ?" 

Not  a  shadow,"  I  said,  and  I  well  knew  what  he 
meant  by  the  emphasis  on  all,  for  he  was  a  proud, 
but  not  a  haughty  man — proud  of  his  name,  for  it 
had  always  been  connected  with  honor  and  integrity; 
proud  of  his  character,  for  it  had  ranked  with  the 
highest  and  best,  and  proud  of  the  position  he  held 
in  society — a  position  won  by  a  lifetime  of  patient 
industry  and  stern  integrity,  and  what  he  had  heard 


180        The   Second  Marriage. 

concerning  his  wife,  was  well  calculated  to  wound  bim 
in  the  most  tender  point 

"  One  thing  more,  Mr.  Evarts,  and  I  have  finished. 
From  first  to  last,  I  have  been  actuated  by  the  sole 
desire  to  serve  your  daughter,  with  whom,  as  you  have 
heard,  I  became  acquainted  solely  through  chance, 
but  whom  I  learned  to  honor  and  esteem  from  the 
first  ;  and  when  I  had  heard  her  narrative,  I  deter- 
mined, not  only  for  her  sake,  to  get  at  the  truth,  but 
for  yours  ;  for  I  could  not  but  perceive  how  unhappy 
you  were,  and  I  was  under  too  many  obligations  to 
you  not  to  desire  to  serve  you,  if  it  were  within  my 
power." 

"  I  have  accomplished  my  end,  and  I  pledge  you 
my  word  as  a  gentleman,  that  after  you  shall  have 
arranged  matters  to  your  satisfaction,  I  will  never  by 
any  act  or  word,  give  you  reason  to  believe  that  I 
hold  it  in  my  remembrance.  I  would  not  recall  any 
thing  which  must  be  so  painful  to  you." 

"  That  is  more,  much  more  kindness  than  I  deserve 
at  your  hands.  But  I  must  go  now  ;  good  night. 
Come  around  to-morrow  evening,  Doctor." 

"  And  where  are  you  going  in  such  haste  ?  I  have 
not  told  you  all,  yet." 

"  I  don't  want  to  hear  any  more  ;  I  have  heard 
quite  enough  to  satisfy  me  that  I  have  been  duped, 


Father   and   Daughter.  181 

deceived  and  betrayed,  and  that  I  have  been  a  most 
unnatural  parent.  I  am  going  to  take  my  daughter 
to  her  own  house — too  my  home  ;  for,  thank  God, 
if  I  really  know  myself,  she  has  never  left  my 
heart." 

"  You  don't  know  where  to  find  her,  I  am  afraid, 
do  you  ?" 

"  That  is  true,  Doctor,  I  quite  forgot  that,  but  you 
wiU  tell  me  ?" 

^ot  until  you  give  me  your  promise  to  do  nothing 
until  I  am  ready.  Why,  ]\Ir.  Evarts,  you  would 
spoil  every  thing  by  such  precipitancy." 

"  But,  let  me  see  her.  Take  me  to  her,  and  let 
me  ask  her  pardon  on  my  knees,  for  my  injustice. 
Oh,  Cora,  my  own  darling,  my  treasured  child,  shall 
I  see  you  again  ?"  and  he  clasped  his  hands  with  an 
expression  of  happiness,  such  as  had  been  a  stranger 
to  his  face  for  many  a  weary  month. 

"  You  promise  to  do  nothing  without  my  as- 
sent ?" 

"  Faithfully,  Doctor,"  he  said,  grasping  my  hand  ; 
I  am  not  too  old  to  obey  orders,  though  I  am  too 
happy  to  wish  to." 

And  you  won't  make  any  attempt  to  remove  her 
until  every  thing  is  prepared  ?" 

Prepared  !    Why,  Su:,  is  it  not  my  house  ?  Is 


182       The   Second  Marriage. 

slie  Dot  my  daughter,  and  is  not  my  house  her  home  ? 
Ah,  I  forgot,"  he  said,  checking  liimself.  "Go  on, 
Doctor,  and  do  with  me  as  you  choose.  My  turn 
will  come  in  good  time." 

In  another  moment  we  were  in  the  street,  and  old 
as  was  Mr.  Evarts,  I  had  difficulty  to  keep  up  with 
him,  so  eager  was  he,  and  so  impatient  to  see  his 
child. 

It  did  not  take  us  long  to  reach  her  residence  at 
the  pace  led  by  him,  and  opening  the  front  door, 
he  ex-claimed,  as  he  entered  the  dirty,  uncarpeted 
hall," 

And  is  this  the  place  for  my  daughter — for  my 
Cora  ?" 

As  we  ascended  the  stairs  leading  to  the  room,  I 
could  hear  his  hard  breathing  behind  me,  and  I  was 
almost  fearful  that  the  excitement  would  be  too  much 
for  him. 

As  w^e  reached  the  landing,  Mrs.  Marvin  opened 
the  door,  saying  at  the  same  time,  "Ah,  Doctor,  is 
that  you  ?  I  know  your  step,  walk  in,"  and  with- 
out waiting  to  see  me,  she  re-entered  her  room, 
standing  near  the  door  to  give  me,  her  accustomed 
greeting. 

At  the  sound  of  his  daughter's  voice,  Mr.  Evarts 
trembled  so  excessively,  he  could  scarcely  stand,  and 


Father  and  Daughter.  183 

seizing  my  arm  for  support,  he  suffered  me  to  lead 
him-  on. 

"Walk  in,  Doctor,"  she  said  with  her  wonted 
smile,  still  not  noticing  that  I  was  accompanied,  but 
before  I  had  time  to  return  her  salutation,  her  father 
pushed  me  aside,  and  rushing  in,  exclaimed,  as  he 
opened  his  arms  to  embrace  her,  ''Cora — my  dar- 
ling, my  treasure — my  own  dear  Cora." 

Gazing  wildly  at  him  for  an  instant,  as  if  doubting 
her  own  senses,  she  uttered  a  loud  scream  of  joy,  and 
with  a  spring  was  on  his  bosom,  her  arms  clasped 
around  his  neck,  her  tears  fairly  raining  upon  his 
shoulders. 

In  strict  justice,  I  ought  not  to  have  been  present 
at  such  a  meeting  ;  but  I  had  fairly  earned  my  share 
of  the  happiness  I  had  been  the  means  of  bestowing, 
and  I  was  afraid  Mr.  Evarts,  in  his  impulsiveness, 
might  endanger  all  my  schemes  by  insisting  on  taking 
his  daughter  at  once  home.  So  I  was  there,  and  I 
believe  I  wept  as  much  as  either  of  them,  for  I  was 
very  happy  too. 

"Doctor,"  said  Mrs.  Marvin,  rising  from  her 
father's  bosom,  and  while  he  held  one  hand,  gazing  at 
her  with  looks  of  the  deepest  love  and  sorrow,  she 
extended  the  other  to  me,  which  I  took,  of  course, 


184        The   Second  Marriage. 

"  how  can  I  ever — how  can  we  ever  repay  you  ?  Can 
I  ever  sufficiently  thank  you 

"  Yes,  Mrs.  Marvin,  you  can,"  I  replied,  wiping 
my  own  eyes,  which  were  so  blinded  I  could  scarcely 
distinguish  even  Cora,  "  by  commanding  your  father 
to  obey  me  ;  I  see,  even  now,  symptoms  of  rebellion." 
And  I  did,  for  he  was  gazing  about  her  poorly  fur- 
nished and  uncomfortable  room,  with  looks  of  the 
most  intense  commiseration. 

"  You  need  not  look  so,  Mr.  Evarts  ;  I  understand 
you  perfectly,  I  know  what  you  mean,  but  she  must 
remain  here  for  to-night,  at  least." 

Doctor,  may  God  bless  you,"  was  all  he  could 
say,  for  the  father's  heart  was  too  full  for  many 
words  ;  "do  with  me  as  you  will." 

"  Darling,"  he  said  to  Cora,  who  was  again  close 
by  his  side,  "  I  have  heard  marvellous  things  from 
our  friend  to-night ;  we  owe  to  him  more  than  even 
our  lives  could  repay  ;  I  am  sure  we  will  never  forget 
it.  I  wanted  to  take  you  home  this  very  night,  but 
this  tyrant  is  obstinate,  and  positively  forbids  it," 
and  he  shook  his  fist  at  me  in  a  very  menacing  man- 
ner, "  but  I  will  pay  him  off  one  of  these  days,  and  I 
must  go  without  you ;  but  how  can  I  receive  and  treat 
those  who  have  so  deeply  wronged  and  injured  us  ?" 


Father   and   Daughter.  185 

"  Mr.  Evarts,  I  have  played  the  hypocrite  for 
many  a  month  m  your  house  and  for  your  sakes  ; 
please  practice  a  little  patience  one  night  to  obhge 
me,  and  serve  your  daughter.  But  I  have  a  pa- 
tient near  here,  who  must  be  seen  to-night ;  I  will 
be  back  in  about  an  hour." 

Mrs.  Marvin  thanked  me  with  a  look  which  told 
me  she  knew  all  about  my  patient,  and  Mr.  Evarts 
made  no  objection  ;  so  cautionmg  Cora  against  being 
led  astray  by  her  father,  I  left  them  to  their  own 
happiness. 

When  I  returned,  they  were  deeply  engrossed  in 
conversation,  and  that  I  had  been  the  subject  of  at 
least  a  portion  of  it,  was  evidenced  by  their  rising 
and  extending  each  a  hand  to  me. 

Cora  looked  at  me  an  instant  with  an  expression 
which  a  life-time  will  not  efface,  then  snatching  her 
hand  from  her  father,  who  still  held  it,  she  threw 
herself  on  my  neck,  sobbing  and  weeping  as  if  her 
heart  was  surcharged  with  too  much  joy. 

It  is  useless  to  attempt  a  detail  of  the  conversation 
which  occurred  during  the  next  hour. 

Cora  was  seated  next  to  me,  and  her  soft  blue 
eyes  thanked  me  so  often  and  so  warmly,  I  almost 
wished  I  had  it  all  to  do  over  again. 


186 


The   Second  Marriage. 


But  every  tiling  must  have  an  end  ;  and  when  I 
thought  it  time  for  Mr.  Evarts  to  be  going,  I  fairly 
dragged  him  off  in  spite  of  his  remonstrances  and 
vows  that  he  would  "pay  me  off  yet." 

As  we  left  the  house  together,  I  renewed  my 
earnest  request  that  he  would  not  by  word,  deed,  or 
manner,  give  any  intimation  that  he  had  heard  any 
thing  to  alter  his  feelings  towards  his  wife  and  her 
family,  for,  as  I  remarked,  it  might  put  her  upon  her 
guard  ;  she  might  leave  the  city,  and  give  us  an 
infinity  of  trouble," 

He  promised,  of  course,  to  be  guarded  in  every 
thing,  for  he  had  quite  as  much  at  stake  as  myself, 
and  fully  coinciding  with  the  truth  of  that  remark,  I 
had  no  more  to  urge. 

"  It  will  be  a  hard  task.  Doctor,"  he  said,  "  to 
pretend  respect,  much  less  affection  for  one  who  has 
deceived  me  so  infamously,  and  brought  such  shame 
upon  me,  but  for  Cora's  sake,  I  can  do  almost  any 
thing." 

I  left  him  at  his  own  door,  fully  persuaded  that  he 
would  keep  his  promise,  and  at  once  set  about 
making  my  preparations  for  the  morrow. 

To  that  end,  I  called  on  Dr.  D  ,  and  narrated 

to  him  the  events  of  the  day,  at  which  he  seemed 


Father   and   Daughter.  181 

almost  as  much  delighted  as  myself,  and  with  me,  an- 
ticipated something  more  than  mere  pleasure  in  con- 
fronting and  denouncing  the  vile  woman,  through 
whose  acts  such  wretchedness  and  suffering  had  been 
entailed. 


CHAPTER  XYII. 


HOME  AGAIN. 

Doctor  D  and  myself  met  by  appointiiient  at 

an  early  hour,  at  the  bedside  of  John,  whom  we 
found,  as  indeed  we  knew  we  should,  rapidly  improv- 
ing ;  for  having  got  over  his  fright,  his  disease  was 
easily  managed. 

The  poor  fellow  had  hardly  words  to  express  his 
gratitude  to  us  for  our  attention,  to  which,  backed 
by  our  skill,  he  attributed  his  recovery,  which  we 
now  promised  him  as  certain. 

After  congratulating  hun  upon  his  rapid  improve- 
ment, I  made  known  to  him  that  Julia  had  joined 
him  in  his  confession  ;  and  when  I  told  him  that  I 
intended  on  that  very  day  to  disclose  all  I  had  learned, 
and  reinstate  Miss  Cora  (as  he  still  called  her)  in  her 
rights,  he  seemed  unaffectedly  gratified. 

Having  finished  our  visit  there,  we  returned  to 

Dr.  D  's,  where  a  carriage  having  been  ordered, 

we  took  Dinah  with  us,  and  proceeded  at  once  to 
Mrs.  Marvins'. 


Home   Again.  189 

I  left  Dr.  D  and  DiDah  in  the  coach  while  I 

ran  up  stairs,  where  I  found  Mr.  Evarts  with  his 
daughter,  and  Clarence  occupying  his  place  on  his 
grandfather's  knee.  ♦ 

Both  had  evidently  been  weeping,  for  their  eyes 
were  red  and  swollen  ;  but  I  well  knew  they  were 
tears  of  joy,  and  I  almost  envied  the  happiness  which 
had  been  theirs  after  that  interview. 

"  I  have  a  friend  in  the  carriage  at  the  door,"  I 
said,  after  the  first  warm  greeting,  to  whom  we 
are  all  much  indebted  ;  may  I  bring  him  up  ?" 

"  Of  course,"  they  answered,  in  the  same  breath, 
and  going  to  the  window,  I  raised  it,  and  beckoned 
for  my  friend  to  come  up. 

When  I  introduced  him  as  one  to  whom,  under 
Providence,  I  was  indebted  for  the  success  which  had 
attended  my  efforts  to  serve  them,  and  who  had  con- 
stantly aided  me  with  his  counsel  and  friendship,  he 
was  received  with  a  warmth  flowing  from  truly 
grateful  hearts,  and  I  could  see  by  the  looks  of 
admiration  he  cast  upon  Cora,  that  he  was  not  at 
all  surprised  at  the  interest  I  had  manifested  for 
her. 

"  Come,  Doctor,"  said  Mr.  Evarts,  "  when  is  the 
performance  to  come  off?  you  are  the  stage-mana« 
ger,  and  the  curtain  can't  rise  until  you  give  the 


190       The   Second  Marriage. 

order.  I  must  confess,  ho]V'ever.  that  I  am  getting 
very  impatient." 

"  Let  me  see,"  I  said,  very  leisurely  pulling  out 
my  watch,  "  I  told  Seaton  to  be  there  at  ten.  You 
are  sure  Barton  will  be  at  home  ?" 

"Oh,  yes  ;  I  told  Martha  to  keep  him  in  the 
house,  as  I  wanted  very  much  to  see  him  before  I 
went  down  to  the  ofiQce." 

"  I  hope  that  devil,  George,  won't  get  there  be- 
fore me,"  I  half  muttered. 

"  What's  that  you  said  ?"  inquired  Cora,  placing 
her  hand  on  my  arm  ;  "  you  said  something  about 
devil." 

"  Only  there  will  be  the  devil  to  pay  if  he  is,"  I 
said,  mysteriously  ;  for,  to  tell  the  truth,  I  had  re- 
quested George  Seaton  (of  whom  more  anon)  to  be 
in  waiting  at  ten  o'clock,  but  on  no  account  to  enter 
the  house  until  I  came,  but  I  much  feared  least  his 
impetuosity  would  get  the  better  of  his  discretion  ; 
for  I  was  well  assured,  that  if  he  chanced  to  get  a 
sight  of  Barton,  my  recognizances  would  be  for- 
feited, and  Robert  Barton  would  be  half  mur- 
dered. 

I  therefore  assented  to  a  movement  towards  Mr. 
Evarts'  house,  and  conducted  the  party  to  the 
coach. 


Home  Again. 


191 


Mr.  Evarts  rather  shrunk  back  as  he  saw  Dinah, 
but  when  I  remarked  that  she  was  a  "leading 
actress,"  he  said  no  more,  and,  having  taken  our 
seats,  the  coach  was  driven  off. 

Not  a  word  was  spoken  on  the  road  to  Mr.  Evarts, 
for  the  heart  of  each  was  too  full  for  words  at  such 
a  time. 

Cora  lay  upon  her  father's  bosom,  his  arms  in- 

circlmg  her,  while  Dinah,  Dr.  D  ,  and  myself 

occupied  the  front  seat,  Clarence  being  tightly 
.  squeezed  in  between  Cora  and  her  father. 

The  coach  has  stopped,  and  we  are  at  the  door. 
A  life-time  of  anxiety  is  crowded  into  those  few  mo- 
ments. Every  heart  beat  tumultuously,  and  as  the 
driver  opened  the  door  to  permit  our  egress,  I  could 
see  that  Cora's  eyes  were  filled  with  tears,  while 
her  father,  with  a  pale,  stern  face,  ahnost  dragged 
her  onward. 


CHAPTER  XYIII. 


BROTHER  AXD  SISTER. 

Turn  we  now,  again,  to  Julia  Seaton  and  her 
friend. 

I  had,  as  it  will  be  remembered,  given  Julia's  ad- 
dress to  George,  and  he  was  not  long  in  finding  out 
her  residence.  Without  hesitation  he  pushed  open  the 
front  door,  and  knocking  at  the  door  of  the  first 
apartment,  inquired  for  Miss  Barton. 

"  Up  stairs — front  room,"  and  before  the  words 
were  fairly  out  of  the  speaker's  mouth,  he  was  up 
stairs,  and  in  the  front  room. 

Juha  and  Helen  were  seated  there,  and  a  faint 
scream  betrayed  their  affright  at  the  sudden  appari- 
tion of  the  tall,  brawny-looking  man  who  burst  in 
upon  them  unannounced. 

They  had  no  time  for  words,  however,  for  with  a 
cry  of  joy,  Julia  sprang  forward,  and  in  an  instant 
was  clasped  in  a  pair  of  as  honest  arms  as  ever  pro- 
tected woman. 


Brother  and  Sister.  193 

George — my  George — my  own  dear  brother 
and  Helen  was  pacified,  for  she  had  already  begun 
to  dread  some  new  adventure. 

And  after  a  few  tears  of  joy,  and  a  great  many 
embraces,  Julia  found  time  to  say,  that  "  this  was 
her  own  dear  brother  George,"  and  Helen  received 
him  as  she  ought  to  have  received  the  brother  of  her 
own  dear  Julia — with  a  smile,  and  a  hearty  shake 
of  the  hand,  and  a  cordial  welcome. 

What  passed  there,  it  is  not  my  business  to  repeat. 
The  issue  will  be  known  in  time. 

On  the  same  evening,  while  seated  in  leisurely 
enjoyment  of  my  Havana,  George  entered  unan- 
nounced, and  throwing  his  hat  on  the  sofa,  advanced 
towards  me  with  outstretched  hands,  and  a  counten- 
ance beaming  with  such  joy  and  happiness,  that,  not- 
withstanding my  dread  of  his  vice-like  grasp,  I  gave 
hun  my  own. 

"  Doctor,"  he  said,  you  are  a  man  from  clew  to 
earing,  and  I  love  and  honor  you.  I  see  through 
it  all  now  ;  and  if  I  ever  forget  you,  or  your  kindness 

"to  JuUa  " 

"  There,  that  will  do,  George,"  I  said,  releasing 
my  hands  from  his  grasp,  and  backing  away,  lest  he 
should  renew  it,  "I  know  all  you  want  to  say.  I 
hope  you  found  Julia  well,  and  all  right." 

9 


194 


The  Second  Marriage. 


"  All  right,  Doctor,"  but  if  I  could  only  get  a  few 
minutes  alone  with  that  Barton — " 

"  Well,  you  can't,"  I  said,  interrupting  him,  "  for 
he  is  under  my  care  ;  and  you  should  not  if  he  was 
able  to  be  out,  for  you  might  spoil  my  game.  Now 
listen  to  me,  and  answer  a  few  questions  : 

"  You  saw  a  young  woman  with  your  sister  ?" 

"  Well,  I  did." 

"  How  did  you  fancy  her  ?  What  did  you  think 
of  her  ?" 

"  I  didn't  fancy  her,  because  I  did  not  look  at  her 
enough  to  know  her  again,  and  I  didn't  think  of  her, 
I  was  so  busy  with  JuHa." 

"  I  suppose  Juha  told  you  something  about  this 
Barton  ?" 

"  Not  so  much  as  I  want  to  know.  She  and 
Helen,  as  she  called  her,  kept  winking  and  bhnking 
at  each  other  whenever  his  name  was  mentioned,  so 
I  rather  guess  there's  something  behind  yet." 

"  Did  you  tell  Juha  about  your  meeting  with 
Barton,  and  the  consequences  ?" 

"  Of  course  I  did  ;  and  when  I  mentioned  what  a 
pounding  I  gave  him,  she  laughed  and  clapped  her 
hands  in  perfect  dehght." 

"  And  Helen  ?" 

"  She  did  not  say  any  thing  ;  but  I  could  see  by 


Brother  and   Sister.  195 

the  twinkle  of  her  eyes,  that  she  would  not  have 
cried  if  I  had  given  him  a  little  more." 

"  Now  I  am  going  to  tell  you  something  to  suprise 
you,  but  I  must  have  your  word  of  honor  as  a  man 
and  a  sailor,  that  you'll  not  breathe  a  word  or  move 
a  step  until  I  give  you  leave." 

"  I  promise,  faithfully." 
Barton  is  the  husband  of  Helen." 

"  What  !"  exclaimed  George,  springing  from  his 
seat,  as  if  he  had  been  propelled  from  a  mortar, 
though  he  didn't  rise  quite  so  high,  the  infernal 
scoundrel !    Say  that  again." 

"  I  say  that  Robert  Barton  is  the  husband  of  Helen 
Lee  that  was — now  Helen  'Barton — though  he 
disowns  her,  and  swears  his  marriage  was  all  a 
sham." 

"  And  I  suppose  he  wanted  to  play  the  same  game 
with  Julia.  Oh,  Doctor,  if  I  had  known  that  before, 
I  don't  think  I  would  have  let  you  bail  me  out." 

"  Remember,  George,  I  have  your  promise." 

"  Oh,  of  course  ;  it's  too  late,  now.  But  what  are 
you  going  to  do  about  it  ?" 

First,  let  me  tell  you  how  it  was  found  out,"  and 
I  narrated  the  interview  of  Helen  with  Barton  in 
JuHa'sroom,  to  which  he  listened  with  eager  atten- 
tion, interruptmg  me,  however,  by  occasional  interjec- 


196        The   Second  Marriage. 

tions  and  threats,  which,  being  accompanied  by  pretty 
strong  sea-language,  I  do  not  think  it  necessary  to 
repeat. 

When  I  closed,  he  reiterated  his  earnest  wishes 
that  I  would  only  give  him  one  more  chance  at 
Barton,  and  he  promised  me  that  he  would  give  me 
all  the  money  he  had  now,  which  was  about  eighty 
dollars,  and  work  out  the  balance. 

Of  course,  I  forbade  that,  and  he  renewed  his 
promise  of  good  behavior. 

"Now,  George,"  I  continued,  "I  must  and  will 
find  out  who  married  them,  for  I  believe  they  were 
really  married,  and  I  am  the  more  inclined  to  that, 
for  the  reason  that  he  has  kept  the  certificate  which 
was  given  on  the  occasion.  Helen  was  a  simple- 
hearted  country  girl,  and  of  course  trusted  him.  I 
want  you  to  help  me,  in  this  search." 

"  Won't  I  ?"  was  all  he  answered. 

"Now,  I  know  that  every  minister  or  magistrate, 
who  marries  parties  here,  is  obliged  to  keep  a  record 
of  names,  dates,  and  ages  of  the  husband  and  wife, 
and  that  is  the  only  chance  of  discovermg  whether 
they  were  really  married  or  not." 

"  Why  don't  you  advertise  for  the — " 

"  Pshaw,  George,  that  would  only  put  Barton  on 
his  guard,  and  he  would  be  out  of  reach  in  no  time. 


Brother  and  Sister. 


197 


"No,  no  ;  it  requires  care,  prudence,  and  great  caution. 
Indeed,  so  much,  I'm  almost  afraid  to  trust  you." 

"  You  needn't  feel  so  ;  I  shan't  forget  that  I'm 
working  to  punish  a  man  who  wanted  to  ruin  my 
sister,  and  I'll  keep  my  tongue  as  fast  inside  my  teeth, 
as  a  dead  man." 

After  again  impressing  him  with  the  necessity  of 
extreme  caution,  I  detailed  my  plan  of  operations, 
which  was  to  ascertain  the  residence  of  every  minister 
and  magistrate  in  the  city,  and  go  myself,  or  send  a 
proper  person  to  see  them. 

"  I'll  take  one-half,  and  work  like  a  beaver." 

"  Only  work  as  quietly,  and  I  will  give  you  all 
credit.  Now,  I  must  go  and  see  Helen,  and  get 
from  her  a  description  of  the  man  who  performed 
the  ceremony,  and  such  other  circumstances  as  she 
can  remember.  Do  you  see  me  to-morrow  ;  I  will 
step  around  to  Helen's,  now  ;  so  good  night,'^  and 
with  a  hearty  shake  of  the  hand,  and  repeating  with 
much  earnestcress,  that  I  was  a  man  from  clew  to 
earmg,"  he  took  his  leave, 

I  found  the  girls  in  high  spirits.  Julia,  of  course, 
perfectly  happy  in  the  return  of  her  brother,  for  she 
now  felt  that  her  only  natural  protector  was  both 
able  and  willing  to  shield  her  from  the  machinations 


198        The  Second  Marriage. 

of  Barton,  while  Helen  forgot  her  own  sorrows  in 
sympathy  for  her  friend's  joy. 

Briefly  announcing  the  nature  of  my  visit,  Helen's 
countenance  lighted  up  with  happiness,  for  if  I  should 
succeed  in  establishing  Barton's  villainy,  and  her  con- 
sequent innocence,  she  could  rejoice  the  hearts  of  her 
dear  parents  by  convincing  them  how  much  more  she 
had  been  sinned  against  than  sinning,  and  she  felt, 
that  if  made  aware  of  the  terrible  punishment  which 
had  been  visited  upon  her  disobedience  to  them,  they 
would  take  her  to  their  hearts  again. 

"l^ow,  Helen,"  I  said,  with  great  earnestness,  "I 
want  you  to  tell  me  all  you  can  remember  about  the 
time,  place,  and  circumstances  of  your  marriage. 
What  kind  of  a  looking  man  was  he  who  married 
you  ?  Have  you  any  idea  where  you  went,  and  can 
you  give  me  any  description  of  the  place  ?  Think 
carefully,  and  answer  me  as  correctly  as  you  can,  for 
it  is  very  important  to  you." 

"He  was  a  tall,  spare  man,  dressed  in  black. 
That's  about  all  I  can  remember  of  his  appearance." 

I  thought  to  myself  that  was  a  very  slender  reed 
on  which  to  lean,  as  there  were  a  great  many  tall 
and  spare  men  in  the  city,  dressed  in  black. 

"  But  what  street  was  it  in  ?" 


Brother  and  Sister. 


199 


"  Oh  dear  I  I  could  not  remember,  even  if  I  had 
known.  I  had  only  been  in  the  city  one  day,  and 
had  not  been  out  of  the  hotel  until  he  took  me  to 
the  person  who  was  to  marry  us." 

"  Was  he  a  minister,  do  you  think  ?" 
I  am  sure  he  was  not,  because  he  did  not  make 
any  prayer.  He  had  a  httle  book  in  his  hand,  it  is 
true,  but  he  did  not  use  it,  except  when  the  cere- 
mony was  over,  he  put  down  our  names  and  ages  on 
a  blank  leaf,  and  then  made  out  a  certificate  from 
that.'' 

"  Do  you  remember  any  thing  of  the  room  ?" 

"  I  remember  now.  Doctor,  that  when  we  left  the 
hotel  we  walked  up  Broadway  for  a  long  distance, 
and  then  turned  to  the  right.  We  went  in  that 
direction  two  blocks — not  more,  I  am  sure.  The 
room  was  a  small  library.  There  was  an  oak  table 
in  the  middle,  covered  with  green  leather,  and  right 
over  the  mantel-piece  was  a  beautiful  picture  of 
a  lady  and  two  children.  One  of  the  children  had 
long  flaxen  hair  hanging  down  her  neck  in  heavy 
curls,  and  I  remember  thinking  what  a  beautiful 
child  she  was." 

"  JsTow,  then,  when  was  it  ?"  I  asked,  having  care- 
fully treasui'ed  up  what  she  had  been  saying. 


200        The   Second  Marriage. 

"In  October,  two  years  ago.    On  the  13th." 

*'  That  will  do — good  night.  You  will  hear  from 
me  in  a  few  days,  and  I  hope  to  some  purpose,"  and 
with  many  warm  thanks  for  the  pains  and  interest  I 
had  taken  in  a  poor  friendless  girl,  I  took  my  leave. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 


MORE  GOOD  LUCK. 

Having  ascertained  thus  much,  it  was  necessary  to 
take  further  steps,  and  my  first  was  to  procure  from 
the  City  Hall,  a  hst  of  the  names  and  residences  of 
the  Aldermen  for  the  year  in  which  the  ceremony 
was  performed.  This  obtained,  I  determined  to  act 
alone,  and  not  entrust  to  George  any  more  of  ac- 
tive duty  than  was  absolutely  necessary.  To  this 
end,  I  set  him  at  work  upon  a  Directory,  hunting  up 
all  the  Reverends  he  could  find,  promising  that  when 
he  had  completed  the  list  we  would  go  to  work. 

I  had  changed  my  mind  about  using  his  personal  ser- 
vices, for  the  reason,  that  although  he  was  an  honest, 
noble-hearted  fellow,  and  would  do  any  thing  in  his 
power  to  serve  me,  I  feared  that  his  blunt,  unpolished 
manners  would  rather  injure  our  cause,  and  so  de- 
ceived him  into  a  careful  perusal  of  the  Directory. 
I  knew,  well  enough,  where  to  find  the  names  on  the 
instant,  but  chose  this  mode,  in  order  to  give  him  oc- 
cupation ;  and  tedious  as  was  the  duty,  I  felt  assured 


202       The   Second  Marriage. 

he  would  perform  it  faithfully,  though  he  would  much 
rather  have  been  more  actively  employed. 

My  first  visit  was  to  the  Police  Magistrates,  who 
very  often  perform  the  marriage  ceremony,  and  they 
cheerfully  referred  to  their  records,  but  without  suc- 
cess, so  far  as  my  object  was  concerned. 

I  next  commenced  on  the  Aldermen  residing  in  the 
upper  part  of  the  city,  for  from  Helen's  description 
of  the  route  she  had  taken  on  leaving  the  hotel,  I 
was  satisfied,  that  if  the  ceremony  had  been  per- 
formed by  any  Alderman,  it  must  have  been  by  one 
representing  one  of  the  upper  wards. 

I  could  not  devote  much  time  to  this  search,  as 
my  professional  duties  required  pretty  constant  atten- 
tion, so  I  chose  the  evenings,  as  being  the  period 
when  I  would  be  most  likely  to  find  the  gentlemen  at 
home. 

T  had  visited  four  or  five,  but  only  one  of  them  had 
any  record  of  the  marriages  performed  by  him  ;  the 
others,  had  entered  them  immediately  in  the  office  of 
the  City  Inspector,  at  the  City  Hall,  but  I  deferred 
going  there  until  I  had  completed  my  round  among 
the  Aldermen. 

The  third  evening  of  these  visits,  (and  by  the  way, 
George  had  carefully  spelled  over  the  Directory  by  this 
time,  and  had  made  out  a  list,  as  he  expressed  himself, 


More   Good  Luck 


203 


as  long  as  from  "  here  to  there  and  back  again,")  I 
started  off  rather  discouraged  as  to  my  prospects, 
but  cheering  myself  with  the  hope,  that  Providence 
would  again  interpose  in  behalf  of  the  injured 
woman. 

This  was  the  last  of  the  up-town  Aldermen  upon 
whom  I  was  about  to  call,  and  if  he  failed  me,  I  re- 
solved to  employ  some  active  officer  to  go  among  the 
ministers,  instead  of  George,  for  that  would  be  an 
interminable  task  for  me,  and  I  felt  that  George 
was  not  exactly  the  proper  person  to  prosecute  this 
search. 

My  ring  at  the  door  of  the  house  occupied  by  Mr, 

H  ,  was  speedily  answered  by  a  servant,  who,  in 

answer  to  my  inquiry  for  Alderman  H  ,  ushered 

me  into  a  small  and  appropriately  furnished  library. 
My  heart  beat  faster,  and  my  breath  came  and 
w^ent  quicker,  as  a  passing  glance  at  its  contents 
showed  me  that  Providence  had  indeed  crowned  my 
efforts  with  success.  There  was  the  oaken  centre- 
table,  covered  with  green  leather  ;  and  there,  over 
the  mantel-piece,  was  the  identical  picture  described 
by  Helen — the  lady  and  two  little  girls,  and  one  of 
them  with  flaxen,  curly  hair. 

"  My  dear  sir,  I  am  so  glad  to  see  you,"  I  said,  as 
the  proprietor  of  the  name  and  of  the  house  entered, 


204        The   Second  Marriage. 

and  I  rau  up  grasping  his  hand  with  all  the  warmth 
of  an  old  friend,  quite  forgettmg  that  we  had  never 
met  before. 

Mr.  H  smiled  at  this  very  remarkable  exhibi- 
tion of  pleasure  on  the  part  of  a  stranger,  and  when  I 
had  dropped  his  hand,  he  quietly  motioned  me  to 
take  a  seat,  which  I  did,  and  then  for  the  first  time 
I  became  sensible  of  the  ridiculous  figure  I  had  just 
cut. 

Rising  much  more  hastily  than  I  had  seated  my- 
self, I  said,  "Really,  Mr.  H  ,  you  must  pardon 

my  conduct  just  now,  which  you  must  have  thought 

particularly  absurd.    My  name  is  Dr.  ,  and  my 

busmess  here  is  one  of  great  importance  to  a  friend  in 
whom  I  feel  a  deep  interest.  I  have  been  many  days 
engaged  in  searching  for  this  table  and  that  picture," 
and  I  laid  one  hand  on  the  table,  pointing  with  the 
other  to  the  picture. 

]\Ir.  H.  smiled  again,  and  this  time  rather  incredu- 
lously, evidently  beginning  to  think  he  had  a  lunatic 
to  deal  with,  and  I  noticed  that  he  kept  his  eyes 
fixed  on  my  own  in  true  professional  style. 

"  Come,  come,  Mr.  H.,  I  see  you  think  I  am  a 
little  touched  here,"  and  I  tapped  my  forehead. 
"  Let  me  tell  you  why  I  was  so  happy  to  see  you, 
and  why  I  have  been  searching  for  this  table  and 


More   Good  Luck.  205 

that  picture,  neither  of  which,  I  assure  you,  did  I 
ever  before  see." 

Mr.  H.  bowed,  but  did  not  smile  this  time. 
You  were  an  alderman  in  185 —  ?" 

"  I  was." 

"  You  sometimes,  while  holding  that  oflSce,  per- 
formed marriage  ceremonies  ?" 

"  Never  but  twice.  I  was  at  my  store  all  day, 
and  not  so  much  in  the  way  of  such  job«i  as  many  of 
my  fellow  members." 

"  So  much  the  better,  Mr.  H  ;  it  will  render  my 
task  the  easier." 

"]N'ow,  I  will  tell  you  why  I  was  so  glad  to  see 
that  table  and  that  picture.  '  A  young  and  innocent 
country  girl  was  inveigled  from  her  home  by  a 
specious  villain  who  brought  her  to  this  city  in 
October,  185 — .  I  am  deeply  interested  in  the  girl, 
and  for  very  particular  reasons  have  an  equal,  though 
a  very  different  interest  in  the  scoundrel  who  has 
caused  so  much  trouble  and  distress.  After  living 
with  her  some  time  as  his  wife,  he  basely  deserted 
her,  telling  her  that  the  marriage  was  all  a  sham.  I 
have  the  best  reason  in  the  world  for  believing  that 
the  marriage  was  real,  and  that  the  poor  young  girl 
has  been  most  basely  deserted  by  him  who  is  bound 
by  law  to  protect  and  provide  for  her." 


206       The   Second  Marriage. 

In  such  a  case,"  said  Mr.  H  ,  with  warmth, 

"  I  am  with  you,  sir,  and  will  lend  every  aid  in  my 
power." 

"  Now,  as  to  the  table  and  picture.  I  questioned 
the  young  woman  a  few  nights  since  as  to  what  she 
remembered  of  the  person  who  performed  the  cere- 
mony, and  the  house  where  it  took  place.  All  she 
could  tell  me  was,  that  the  gentleman  was  a  tall,  spare 
man,  dressed  in  black,  and  that  he  didn't  say  any 
prayer,  and  that  over  the  fire-place  there  hung  the 
portrait  of  a  lady  and  two  children,  one  of  them  with 
long,  curly,  flaxen  ringlets,  and  that  there  was  an 
oak  table  in  the  room,  covered  with  green  leather. 
Here  is  the  table,"  I  continued,  laying  my  hand  on 
it,  with  very  unnecessary  vehemence,  "and  there  is 
the  portrait.  You  are  tall,  and  spare,  and  I  hope 
in  God's  name  you  are  the  right  person." 

"  Upon  my  word,  this  is  very  extraordinary,"  said 
Mr.  H  ,  who  had  heard  me  through  with  ap- 
parent interest.  "  I  am  sure  I  shall  be  glad  if  I  am 
the  party  you  are  seeking.  But  the  name  ?  I  only 
married  two  couples  during  my  term  of  office,  and  I 
have  them  both  down  in  my  book.'^ 

Robert  Barton  and  Helen  Lee,"  I  replied. 

Mr.  H         opened  a  drawer  in  the  oaken  table, 

and  produced  thence  a  small  book,  looking  much  like 


More   Good  Luck 


20t 


a  pocket-book,  for  it  was  clasped,  and  handing  it  for 
my  inspection,  I  opened  it. 

It  was  composed  of  some  dozen  or  twenty  leaves 
of  heavy  Bristol  board,  to  give  it  the  appearance  of 
a  book,  but  in  the  centre  were  two  pages  printed,  of 
a  form  for  the  celebration  of  the  rites  of  matrimony, 
originating  with  one  of  the  Mayors,  and  which  was 
a  combination  of  the  civil  and  ecclesiastical  forms. 
The  rest  of  the  book  was  blank. 

Turning  over  the  blank  leaves,  I  came  to  some 
entries,  and  the  first  that  met  my  eye  was  the 
one  I  sought,  ''Robert  Barton,  aged  twenty-five  ; 
Helen  Lee,  aged  twenty  years — October  13th, 
185—." 

"Mr.  H  I  said,  tendering  my  hand,  "don't 

think  me  a  fool,  but  as  I  entered  this  room,  I  was 
sure  that  success  was  to  crown  my  efforts  in  behalf 
of  a  friendless  and  unhappy  woman.  There  is  the 
entry  I  have  been  looking  for  ;  and  now,  only  one 
question — Would  you  recognize  those  parties  ?" 

"  Certainly  ;  I  remember  thinking  what  a  handsome 
couple  they  made  ;  the  man  was  really  a  fine,  splen- 
did-looking fellow — the  girl  a  sweet,  modest,  retu-- 
ing  thing.  Remember  them  !  yes,  of  course  I  would. 
I  was  as  much  flurried  as  they  were,  as  it  was  the 
first  time  I  had  performed  the  ceremony,  and  I 


208       The   Second  Marriage. 

recollect  after  they  had  gone  condemniDg  myself  for 
not  askmg  more  questions  than  I  did." 

"  Were  there  any  witnesses  ?" 

"  My  wife  and  daughter  came  in,  at  my  reqnest ; 
nobody  else  was  present." 

"  Could  you  spare  half  an  hour  to  help  right  a 
great  wrong,  Mr.  H  ?" 

"  Yes,  a  dozen  of  them." 

"  Then  please  come  with  me  ;  it  won't  take  you 
more  than  an  hour  and  hastily  summoning  his 
servant,  he  left  word  that  he  would  be  home  in  about 
an  hour,  and  in  a  moment  was  hatted  and  gloved, 
ready  to  accompany  me. 

"  You  have  taken  a  great  deal  of  pains  in  this 

matter,  Dr.   he  said,  as  we  walked  along 

towards  the  abode  of  Helen,  for  it  was  there  I  was 
conducting  him. 

Not  more  than  the  importance  of  the  case  de- 
manded. This  Barton  is  mixed  up  in  the  affairs  of 
a  family  in  whom  I  have  the  deepest  interest,  and 
this  disclosure  is  of  immense  importance  to  my  plans 
with  reference  to  them  ;  besides,  I  am  anxious  to 
see  the  young,  deserted  wife  established  in  her 
rights." 

Will  she  live  with  him  again  ?" 
"  Not  for  half  New- York  ;  her  contempt  for  him 


More   Good  Luck. 


209 


is  too  great  to  dream  of  that ;  but  she  wants  to  be 
put  aright  with  her  parents,  from  whom  she  eloped 
with  him.  They  think  that  she  is  leading  a  Ufe  of 
infamy  in  New- York,  while  I  know  that  she  is  a 
virtuous,  industrious,  hard-working,  and  most  un- 
happy woman.  Why,  the  scoundrel  was  about  to 
perpetrate  a  similar  outrage  on  a  young  girl  whom  I 
know,  and  would  have  succeeded,  if  his  wife  had  not, 
by  some  Providential  interference,  met  her  infamous 
husband  in  company  with  her,  and  to  whom  of  course 
she  made  all  known." 

"  He  must  be  an  infamous  scoundrel." 

"  He  is  precisely  that,  and  nothing  else,  without 
one  redeeming  trait." 

In  a  few  moments  we  reached  the  house  occupied 
by  Julia  and  Helen,  and  ascended  to  the  room  of  the 
latter,  when,  after  knocking  unsuccessfully  two  or 
three  times,  I  proceeded  to  Julia's  apartment,  where 
my  summons  was  answered  by  Julia's  "  come  in,"  and 
we  entered. 

As  I  supposed,  we  found  the  girls  together,  and 

as  Helen  caught  sight  of  Mr.  H  ,  she  started 

forward  with  a  cry  of  joy,  for  she  had  recognized  him 
on  the  instant. 

He  turned  to  me,  with  a  smile  of  satisfaction,  and 
said,  "  Doctor,  the  recognition  is  mutual ;  that  is  the 


210       The   Second  Marriage. 

girl  I  raarried  to  Robert  Barton,  though  she  is  paler 
and  thinner  now." 

"  She  has  had  enough  to  drive  tlie  color  from  her 
cheeks  and  to  take  the  flesh  from  her  bones,  since 
you  saw  her.  Helen,  this  is  the  gentleman,  Alderman 
H  ,  who  married  yo\V^ 

"  Then  I  was  really  married  ?" 

"  As  surely,  Madam,  and  as  strongly  as  all  the 
priests  in  the  world  could  have  done  it  ;  I  remember 
you  distinctly,"  said  Mr.  H  ,  earnestly. 

"  Thank  God — thank  God  !"  she  exclaimed,  spring- 
ing forward  ;  and  seizing  the  Alderman's  unresisting 
hand,  she  bathed  it  with  her  tears. 

"  And  next,  dear  Doctor,"  and  she  approached  me 
with  streaming  eyes,  extending  her  hand,  but  before 
I  could  reach  her  own,  she  threw  herself  upon  my 
neck,  and  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  would  break.  She 
had  no  room  for  words,  nor  had  I,  and  I  made  no 
attempt  to  speak. 

Mr.  H  had  stood  a  silent,  but  not  unmoved 

spectator  of  this  scene,  for  his  own  eyes  were  moist 
jvith  tears. 

How  long  this  might  have  continued  I  know  not, 
but  it  was  interrupted  by  the  sudden  and  unan- 
nounced entrance  of  George  Seaton,  who  bounced 
into  the  room  uttering  one  of  his  sea  phrases,  but 


More   Good  Luck. 


211 


who  stood  as  still  as  though  he  had  been  turned  into 
a  statue,  as  he  observed  the  position  of  things. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  this  means  something,"  he  said, 
"  but  you  may  make  a  marine  of  me  if  I  know  what 
it  means." 

"It  means,  George,"  I  replied,  "that  I  have  got 
the  weather-guage  of  you  ;  that  while  you  have  been 
speUing  out  the  Directory,  I  have  found  the  man." 

"  God  bless  you,  old  fellow,"  he  said,  taking  in  my 

meaning  at  once,  and  grasping  Mr.  H  s  hand, 

''so  you're  the  man  that  spliced  them.  Hurra, 
Doctor,  hurra,"  and  going  up  to  Julia,  he  seized  her 
in  his  brawny  arms,  and  almost  squeezed  the  breath 
out  of  her  body  ;  and  not  content  with  that,  he  paid 
Helen  the  same  comphment,  to  which  she  made  no 
resistance,  for  she  knew  that  the  impulse  which 
prompted  him,  sprang  from  a  noble,  generous  heart. 

Doctor,  you've  headed  me  olf,  I  see,  but  I  haven't 
a  word  to  say.  Steer  your  own  course,  and  I'll 
follow  you." 

"  Mr.  H  ,"  said  I,  "  this  is  the  brother  of  Juha, 

and  a  hard  customer,  as  you  see,  but  his  heart  is  m 
the  right  place.    So  don't  mind  him." 

"But  I  do  mind  him.  I  love  an  honest  man 
wherever  I  meet  him,  and  I'll  swear  he  is  honest. 
Give  us  your  hand  again,  my  friend,"  and  he  ex- 


212       The   Second  Marriage. 

tended  his  hand  to  the  ready  grasp  of  the  happy 
sailor. 

But  I  won't  prolong  this  scene.  I  had  succeeded 
to  the  very  extent  of  my  expectations,  and  from  my 
heart  thanked  the  over-ruhng  Providence  which  had 
guided  me  in  my  efforts  to  expose  and  defeat  the 
villainy  sought  to  be  practised. 

As  we  left  the  house,  that  is  the  alderman  and 
myself,  for  George  chose  to  remain,  to  have  some  fun 
as  he  termed  it,  with  the  girls,  I  said  to  Mr.  H  , 

"I  have  one  more  favor  to  ask  of  you  ;  I  want 
you  to  see  Barton,  and  if  you  recognize  him,  every 
thing  is  known  which  I  can  require.  Would  you  do 
me  that  favor  ?" 

''Do  it — why,  Doctor,  you  have  given  me  an  hour 
of  such  real  happiness,  as  I  have  not  known  in  many 
a  day.  Would  I  do  it  ?  I'd  go  to  New  Orleans  to 
see  him." 

"You  need  not  do  that,  Mr.  H  .    He  is  in 

this  city.  Just  now  he  does  not  show  himself  by  day- 
light, for  he  received  a  tremendous  pounding  the  other 
day,  at  the  hands  of  George  Seaton,  that  young  giant 
whom  you  saw  there.  Seaton  chanced  to  overhear 
him  use  his  sister's  name  disrespectfully,  and  he  gave 
him  such  a  thrashing  as  he  won't  forget  for  many  a 
day." 


More  Good  Luck 


213 


"  Good,  I  like  him  for  that.  He's  a  rough  customer 
to  deal  with,  I  should  thmk." 

''You  would  be  very  sure  of  it,  if  you  saw  Bar- 
ton's face." 

"  Oh,  then,  you  know  this  Barton  ?" 

"  m  tell  you  all  about  it,  in  good  tune.  Now,  I 
thank  you  for  your  kindness  in  this  matter,  and  per- 
haps you  will  find  your  reward  when  you  know 
how  much  you  have  contributed  to  the  happiness 

of  others.    Mr.  H  ,  you  may  have  to  be  made  a 

party  to  a  very  disagreeable  affair.  You  won't 
object  V 

"  Not  if  I  can  serve  that  unfortunate  girl,  and  aid 
to  punish  the  scoundrel  who  deceived  her." 

"  That's  only  part  of  it ;  I  will  let  you  know  more 
hereafter.    May  I  rely  upon  you  ?" 

"With  all  my  heart  and  soul,"  he  said,  earnestly, 
as  he  clasped  my  hand,  and  we  parted. 

Early  in  the  following  week,  having  put  Mr.  Bar- 
in  presentable  condition,  I  called  on  the  Alderman,  and 
inviting  him  to  a  restam-ant  down  town,  asked  him 
to  remain  a  few  minutes,  while  I  went  for  the  party 
whom  I  trusted  he  would  recognize. 

Proceeding  to  the  store  where  Barton  was  em- 
ployed, I  made  some  business  excuse  for  being  in  that 
part  of  the  city  at  such  an  unusual  hour  of  the  day. 


214       The   Second  Marriage. 

and  he  gladly  accepted  the  invitation  to  join  me  in  a 
glass  of  wine  and  some  oysters. 

I  took  him  of  course  to  the  restaurant  where  the 
Alderman  was  in  waiting,  and  as  we  entered  he  nodded 
his  head  to  me,  as  if  to  say,  "  that  is  the  man,"  and 
without  noticing  him,  we  partook  of  our  refreshments. 

''Is  that  the  man?"  I  asked,  when  Barton  had 
left,  for  he  had  to  hurry  back  to  the  store. 

''  As  sure  as  my  name  is — " 

"Then,  alderman,  all  I  have  to  say  is,  that  from 
my  heart  I  thank  you,  for  you  have  enabled  me  to 
confound  vice  and  treachery,  and  to  save  the  character 
of  an  injured  woman." 

"  Call  on  me  at  any  time,  if  you  want  any  further 
evidence,"  he  said,  shaking  my  hand  warmly,  for, 
without  knowing  more  than  I  had  chosen  to  mention, 
he  had  surmised  that  there  was  some  other  villainy  on 
foot,  which  I  was  trying  to  thwart. 

Thanking  him  for  his  j^roffered  kindness,  and  with 
mutual  expressions  of  regard,  we  parted. 

I  proceeded  at  once  to  see  Helen  Lee,  or  Helen 
Barton,  as  she  was  now  fully  entitled  to  call  herself, 
and  her  joy  at  the  full  realization  of  her  hopes,  was 
unbounded  ;  for  now,  said  she,  with  streaming  eyes, 
"  I  can  write  to  my  dear  parents,  that  wrongfully  and 
wickedly  as  I  acted,  I  have  not  disgraced  them,  ex- 


More  Good  Luck. 


215 


cept,"  she  added,  ''by  bearing  the  name  of  one  so 
unworthy  the  love  of  a  vu'tuous  woman." 

Having  thus  completed  these  important  discoveries, 
it  became  necessary  that  I  should  admit  George  into 
my  further  confidence,  but  I  did  not  do  so  until  he 
gave  me  his  word,  as  a  man  and  a  sailor,  that  he 
would  do  nothing  contrary  to  my  directions,  and  that 
if  I  commanded,  he  would  even  refrain  from  thrash- 
ing Barton  again,  if  he  had  the  opportunity ;  and 
this  latter  promise,  I  assured  him,  if  faithfully  kept, 
would  save  me  three  hundred  dollars. 

"  Faith,"  he  said,  with  glistening  eyes,  "  I  wish  I 
had  three  hundred  dollars,  I  think  I'd  give  it  for  a 
fair  chance  at  that  scoundrel.  But  no  matter.  Doc- 
tor, I  have  given  you  my  word,  and  I  won't  break  it." 


CHAPTER  XX. 


HOME  AGAIN. 

As  we  descended  from  the  carriage,  I  saw  George 
standing  near  the  stoop  of  the  house,  evidently  wait- 
ing for  me.  I  gave  him  a  nod,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  Follow  me,"  and  buttoning  up  his  coat,  as  if  to  pre- 
pare for  action,  he  followed  our  party  into  the  house. 

Mr.  Evarts  and  his  daughter  led  the  way,  arm  in 

arm.    Dr.  D  and  myself  brought  up  the  rear, 

while,  in  obedience  to  my  commands  hastily  whispered, 
George  and  Dinah  remamed  in  the  hall,  awaiting  my 
summons. 

In  this  position  we  entered  the  parlor,  where  we 
found  Mrs.  Evarts,  Mattie,  and  Barton,  engrossed  in 
interesting  and  evidently  amusing  conversation,  for 
they  were  laughing  excessively  as  we  made  our  ap- 
pearance. 

At  the  first  glance  they  all  arose,  and  it  was 
evident  that  Mrs.  Evarts  did  not  recognize  Cora,  for 
she  was  dressed  in  deep  mourning,  and  had  probably 


Home  Again. 


2n 


changed  much  since  she  had  been  seen  in  that  apart- 
ment. 

An  instant  sufficed  to  tell  the  wily  woman  who  she 
was,  and  advancing  with  outstretched  arms,  Mrs. 
Evarts  exclaimed,  "  my  dear,  my  darling  Cora,  do  I 
see  you  again  ?" 

Before,  however,  she  had  measured  half  the  dis- 
tance which  separated  them,  Mr.  Evarts,  dropping  his 
daughter's  arm,  and  stepping  forward  to  intercept 
her  further  progress,  stretched  out  his  hand,  and  in  a 
voice  whose  tones  could  not  be  soon  forgotten,  said, 
"  Off  viper — do  not  dare  to  pollute  my  daughter  with 
your  unholy  touch." 

''Mr.  Evarts,"  said  his  wife,  shrinking  back,  and 
looking,  as  indeed  she  well  might  be,  unutterably 
astonished,  "  What  does  this  mean  ?  Surely,  that 
language  was  not  intended  for  me,  your  wife." 

"  Oh,  pa,"  chimed  in  Mattie,  advancing  and  layiag 
her  hand  upon  Mr.  Evarts'  arm,  but  he  shrank  from 
her  touch,  as  from  contact  with  some  loathsome  rep- 
tile, while  she  stood  aghast  at  the  look  of  ineffable 
contempt  which  he  cast  upon  her. 

"  Pardon  me.  Miss  Martha,"  he  said,  with  a  look 

of  the  most  supreme  scorn,  "  I  do  not  desire  to  claim 

the  honor  you  accord  to  me  ;  your  father  would, 

doubtless,  be  proud  of  the  honor  of  hailmg  you  by 
10 


218       The   Second  Marriage 

that  title  ;  I  have  no  such  ambition.  I  am  sorry  he 
cannot  be  here  to  chiim  you." 

At  these  words,  Mrs.  Evarts  and  her  daughter 
turned  deadly  pale  ;  but  that  might  be  attributable 
to  the  extraordinary  position  in  which  they  found 
themselves  thus  suddenly  placed. 

Mrs.  Evarts  was  excessively  agitated,  but  assuming 
an  air  of  defiance,  she  swung  her  dress  around  so  as 
to  admit  her  readier  progress,  and  advancing  close  to 
her  husband,  placed  her  hand  upon  her  hips,  and 
with  the  most  unblushing  effrontery,  said,  "  I  should 
like  to  know  very  much,  Mr.  Evarts,  what  all  this 
mummery  means.  How  dare  you  use  such  language 
to  my  daughter  ?  and  how  dare  you,  sir,''  (and  she 
emphasized  the  word  most  sensibly),  "  bring  that 
woman  into  our  presence  ?"  and  she  pointed  to  Cora, 
who  stood  hanging  upon  her  father's  arm,  pale,  mute, 
but  determined,  for  she  knew  she  had  friends  beside 
her.  "  What  does  this  mean,  sir  ?"  she  repeated,  with 
flashing  eyes,  and  a  countenance  fairly  crimsoned  with 
rage. 

"  It  means  simply  this,"  he  replied,  with  a  compo- 
sure almost  theatrical,  so  perfect  was  it,  showing  that 
he  had  completely  mastered  the  terrible  excitement 
under  which  he  had  labored  as  he  entered  the  house, 
"  that  I  have  brought  my  daughter  to  preside  in  my 


Home  Again. 


219 


own  house,  from  which,  when  I  was  mean  and  base 
enough  to  believe  your  Kes,  I  drove  her.  It  means, 
Madam,  that  I  know  you — that  I  have  discovered 
your  vileness  and  unworthiness,  and  it  means,  more- 
over, that  she  is  henceforth  the  mistress  of  this  estab- 
lishment.   Is  that  plain  enough  for  you  ?" 

I  shall  be  happy  to  know,"  she  said,  with  a 
supercilious  air,  "  that  she  is  worthy  of  the  honor 
you  have  done  her,  but  until  I  am  convinced,"  (and 
she  drew  herself  up  with  an  expression  which  even 
Cleopatra  might  have  copied),  ''you  cannot  expect 
that  my  daughter  or  myself  can  consent  to  associate 
with  her  ;  I  can  never  consent  that  my  daughter's 
morals  shall  be  contaminated  by  contact  with  " 

"  Silence,  Madam,"  he  said,  in  a  voice  almost  of 
thunder,  "  nor  dare  to  utter  one  single  word  against 
my  child  ;  she  is  too  pure  to  be  named  in  the  same 
breath  with  such  polluted  beings  as  yourselves." 

But  as  he  spoke,  he  turned  to  me,  and  caught  such 
an  appealing  look  from  me  not  to  hasten  the  denoue- 
ment, that  checking  himself,  he  said,  calmly,  I  had 
not,  Madam,  the  most  remote  idea  of  placing  you 
in  such  a  contingency.  I  am  perfectly  aware  that  it 
would  be  disagreeable  to  you  to  live  under  the  same 
roof  with  her,  and  I  therefore  advise  you  to  make 


220        The   Second  Marriage. 

preparations  for  yonr  instant  removal  and  although 
he  commenced  in  a  calm,  sober  tone  of  voice,  he 
wound  up  with  a  tone  of  perfect  fierceness. 

"  Nay,  Madam,"  he  continued,  seeing  that  she  was 
about  to  speak,  "you  need  not  waste  your  breath  ;  it 
is  not  only  my  intention,  but  my  deliberate  purpose, 
and  my  determmed  resolution,  that  you  shall  not  re- 
side under  the  same  roof  another  day.  You  may 
make  your  preparations  for  leaving  as  soon  as  you 
choose.'^ 

"  Sir !  Mr.  Evarts — this  to  me — your  "nife,  your 
daughter?"  she  exclaimed,  advancing  towards  him, 
half-imploringly,  "  you  cannot  mean  this  ;  do  you 
know  that  you  are  speaking  to  your  wife,  and  that  I 

am  entitled  to  ?" 

Wife  !  Madam,  I  disown  you.  How  dare  you  use 
that  sacred  name  in  my  presence,  and  to  me  ?  Your 
husband,  Madam,  would  be  glad  to  hear  from  you, 
and  so  would  your  father.  Miss  Martha,"  he  added, 
with  a  contemptuous  sneer. 

"  Mr,  Evarts,"  said  the  undaunted  woman,  brist- 
ling up  to  him  with  flashing  eyes,  "  I  want  to  know 
what  all  this  means  ?  I  am  your  lawful  wife,  and 
you  cannot  thus  discard  me — ^you  shall  not,  for 
by  ^" 


Home  Again. 


221 


"  Madam,  you  are  not  my  wife,  and  well  you  know 
it,"  he  said  very  calmly.  "Your  husband  is  now 
where  you  would  be,  if  I  could  so  disgrace  myself  as 
to  expose  you.  Be  content  that  I  am  merciful,  and 
do  not  urge  me  too  far." 

"  I  defy  you,  sir — I  defy  you,"  she  fairly  screamed, 
"  you  have  invented  a  parcel  of  hes  to  " 

"  Doctor,  call  her  up,"  he  said,  turning  to  me  with 
a  coolness  which  I  could  not  too  much  honor  ;  and  as 
I  turned  to  obey  his  du*ections,  she  continued,  with  a 
voice  trembhng  with  emotion,  for  she  saw  the  ground 
on  which  she  had  so  long  and  in  such  security  stood, 
tremblmg  beneath  her — the  foundation  on  which  she 
had  built  her  hopes,  crumbling  beneath  her  feet — 
"  you  have  made  grave  and  di'eadful  charges  against 
a  woman  whom  you  have  sworn  to  love  and  cherish, 
but  whom  you  are  seeking  now,  for^  sorhe  purpose 
which  I  cannot  divine,  to  destroy  ;  you  bring  dread- 
ful charges  against  an  innocent  and  unoffending  girl, 
who  has  been  taught  to  look  upon  you  as  her  friend, 
her  benefactor,  her  father.  You  know  them  to  be 
groundless,  but  you  have  trumped  them  up  for  some 
vile  purpose  of  your  own  ;  and  to  the  latest  hour  of 
your  hfe,  you  will  repent  your  present  conduct.  You 
cannot — I  defy  you  to  throw  a  shadow  upon  my 


222       The  Second  Marriage. 

character,  which  yow  now  assail,  and  the  infamons 
manner  in  wliich  you  clare  to  speak  of  " — 

"  Sarah  Horton,"  said  Mr.  Evarts,  witli  the  most 
imperturbable  composure.  "  I  know  you,  and  if  I  did 
not,  here  is  one  who  does,"  and  he  pointed  to  Dinah, 
who  entered  the  room  at  that  moment,  followed  by 
myself. 

"I  do  not  know  what  you  mean.  My  name  is 
not,  and  never  was,  Sarah  Horton,"  she  said,  boldly 
. "  I  am  Sarah  Evarts,  and  I  defy  the  world  to  dis- 
prove it." 

At  that  moment  Dinah  advanced  towards  the  . 
light,  and  as  Mrs.  Evarts  caught  a  view  of  her,  she 
faltered,  but  only  for  an  instant. 

"  Yes,  sir  ;  I  defy  you  to  deny  or  disprove  it  ?" 

"  Doctor,"  said  Mr.  Evarts,  turning  to  me,  with  a 
smile,  "this  woman  is  a  regular  lawyer,  she  denies 
every  thing,  and  insists  upon  proof.  Dinah,  come 
here,"  and,  in  obedience  to  the  summons,  Dinah  ad- 
vanced into  the  full  glare  of  the  light. 

Mrs.  Evarts  now  scrutinized  her  very  closely,  and 
from  the  expression  of  her  countenance  I  could  sec 
that  she  recognized  her,  but  turning  to  her  husband 
with  a  look  of  ineffable  scorn,  she  said,  "  And  is  this 
your  proof  ?  Is  this  your  witness,  on  whose  evidence 


Home  Again. 


223 


you  seek  to  coudemn  and  disgrace  your  own  wife  ? 
What  has  this  woman  to  do  with  me  ?" 

"  Do  you  not  know  her,  Madam  ?" 

"  Know  her  !  Yes  ;  as  a  vicious,  lying  slave,  who 
ran  away  from  me  years  ago,  and  who  deserves  as 
good  a  horsewhipping  as  I  would  give  her  if  I  had 
her  in  Alabama." 

"Now,  Dinah,  tell  your  story  ;  perhaps  she  will 
believe  you  can  tell  the  truth  after  all,  if  you  are  a 
negro." 

It  would  be  worse  than  folly  to  undertake  to  fol- 
low Dinah  in  her  narrative.  The  vials  of  her  long- 
pent  wrath  were  now  uncorked,  and  such  a  torrent  of 
truth  and  abuse,  of  narrative  and  invective,  I  never 
heard  before  or  since. 

She  commenced  fi'om  her  earliest  acquaintance 
with  Mrs.  Evarts,  and  traced  her  career  from  that 
hour  until  she  became  the  wife  of  one  of  the  most 
notorious  villains  in  the  Southern  country — a  man 
who  was  at  that  very  hour  in  the  State  Prison  of 
Louisiana  for  a  foul  murder,  he  having  escaped  hang- 
ing only  by  the  obstinacy  of  one  friend  who  was  on 
the  jury. 

As  Dmah,  with  impassioned  gestures,  went  on 
with  her  narrative,  Mrs.  Evarts  gradually  receded 


224       The   Second  Marriage. 

from  her,  until  at  leiigtli,  comi)letely  overwlielmed 
and  condemned  beyond  the  possibility  of  denial,  she 
sank  mute  and  motionless  upon  the  sofa,  by  the  side 
of  Martha,  who  had,  with  Robert  Barton,  remained 
a  passive,  but  not  an  uninterested  listener. 

Nor  did  Martha  pass  unscathed,  for  after  closing 
with  the  mother,  Dinah  narrated  some  passages  in  the 
earlier  life  of  the  daughter,  which,  had  she  not  been 
struck  dumb,  and  almost  senseless,  by  the  suddenness 
of  the  blow  just  inflicted,  would  have  called  the 
blush  even  to  her  cheek. 

There,  Massa  Doctor,  that's  all  I  got  to  say," 
she  said,  turning  to  me,  when  she  had  ended,  and  she 
flirted  out  of  the  room  with  an  air  of  offended  dig- 
nity, for  the  idea  of  a  horsewhipping  had  aroused  all 
the  vindictiveness  of  her  character,  and  possibly  may 
have  led  her  to  color  some  portions  of  her  narrative 
pretty  higlily. 

"That's  a  very  pretty  story,"  said  Barton,  turning 
to  Mrs.  Evarts,  who  was  beside  him  on  the  sofa. 

"  Hold  your  tongue,  you  fool,"  was  all  the  reply 
she  vouchsafed. 

"Now,  Madam,"  said  Mr.  Evarts,  "you  have 
heard  thus  much,  do  you  wish  for  more?  I  have 
abundant  evidence  here  of  your  vile  plot  to  ruin  my 


Home  Again 


225 


daugliter  and  destroy  my  peace  for  the  sake  of  my 
fortune.    Shame  on  you  !    Shame  on  womanhood  !" 

"JsTot  a  word,  Mr.  Evarts.  I  do  not  wish  to 
hear  another  word  from  you/'  she  said,  haughtily, 
and  rising  from  the  sofa.  '*  If  you  can  stoop  so  low 
as  to  arraign  your  wife — yoiu'  faithful,  devoted  wife, 
upon  such  charges  and  on  such  evidence,  I  cannot 
so  far  degrade  myself  as  to  reply  to  them.  I  cannot 
condescend  to  put  my  word  on  a  par  with  that  of  a 
negress  and  a  prost — " 

"  Hold,  Madam  ;  do  not  finish  that  word,  or  you 
may  dearly  repent  it." 

"And  you.  Doctor — I  suppose,  from  your  appear- 
ance here,"  she  continued,  turning  to  me,  and  with- 
out seeming  to  notice  Mr.  Evarts,  ''that  I  may 
safely  conclude  you  have  some  agency  in  this  most 
reputable  transaction.  I  can  imagine  now,  why  I 
found  you  in  attendance  on  my  servant." 

I  bowed,  and  said,  "  it  was  my  good  fortune  to 
have  lent  some  aid  in  the  matter,  but  as  J ohn's  name 
had  not  been  mentioned  as  yet  by  any  one,  I  begged 
to  ask  what  he  had  to  do  with  it  ?" 

She  was  fairly  caught  there,  and  for  an  instant 
seemed  cowed,  but  recovering  her  self-possession  as 
quickly,  she  said,    of  course  not,  but  I  presume  now 


10* 


226       The   Second  Marriage. 

that  you  were  there  to  tutor  him  as  to  the  hes  he 
was  to  tell  upon  this  occasion.  Had  you  not  better 
produce  him,  too  ?" 

"  Here  they  are,  Madam  ;  here  are  the  lies  I  have 
instructed  him  to  tell,"  I  said,  "  under  his  own  hand," 
handing  to  Mr.  Evarts  the  joint  statement  of  John 
and  Julia;  ''and  even  Julia  has  been  also  tutored, 
for  she  too  condemns  you,  and  exposes  your  entire 
conduct." 

Well,  I  think  it's  time  for  me  to  leave,"  said  Mr. 
Barton,  rising;  "  I  will  bid  you  a  very  good  morning, 
as  I  don't  care  to  be  a  party  to  any  further  family 
quarrels." 

"  You  had  better  not  go  jnst  yet,  Mr.  Barton,"  I 
said,  very  coolly;  "  George  Seaton  is  at  the  door,  and 
perhaps  he  may  not  have  forgotten  you  yet  ;"  and  as 
I  spoke,  he  sank  back  into  his  seat,  trembling  at  the 
sound  of  that  name,  the  perspiration  starting  at 
every  pore,  for  he  had  not  forgotten  the  young  giant 
who  had  left  such  terrible  marks  upon  him  before, 
and  whose  name  he  knew  well  enough  at  the  time, 
though  he  had  concealed  it  from  me. 

I  have  a  few  words  to  say  to  you,  Sir,  too,  before 
you  do  go." 

Doctor,  call  George,  will  you,"  and  in  a  moment 


Home  Again. 


227 


George  was  in  the  room.  His  piercing  eye  caught 
sight  of  Barton  on  the  instant,  and  he  made  a 
movement  of  advancing  towards  him  with  clenched 
fists  and  flashing  eyes,  but  a  word  from  me  checked 
him, 

I  wish  every  one  here  to  know,  and  you  espe- 
cially, Miss  Horton,"  and  I  turned  to  Mattie,  "  for 
you  may  be  most  deeply  interested,  that  this  honor- 
able gentleman  has  a  wife  living  now  in  this  city." 

"  It's  a  lie — a  wicked  lie.  Sir,  and  I  dare  you  to 
prove  it." 

Oh,  certainly  ;  I  came  prepared  for  that.  I 
have  found  out  the  Alderman  who  married  you  to 
Helen  Lee.  Perhaps  you  remember  the  day  when 
we  went  to  the  eating-house  together  ;  he  was  there 
then,  and  recognized  you  ;  and  more  than  that,  I 
have  his  certificate  of  your  marriage.  It  would  hardly 
be  safe  for  you.  Sir,  to  try  another  wife,  in  this  city 
at  least.  And  now  you,  Miss  Mattie,  are  warned  ; 
you  can  do  as  you  choose." 

"  One  word  more,  Sir,"  I  said,  seeing  that  he  was 
about  to  interrupt  me,  "  a  warrant  will  be  out  for 
your  arrest,  on  a  charge  of  abandonment,  before  the 
day  is  out,  and  if  you  are  found  here  within  twenty- 
four  hours,  you  may  find  some  difficulty  in  obtaining 
bail,  unless  Mr.  Bvarts  will  go  your  surety." 


228       The   Second  Marriage. 

You  arc  a  meddling  puppy,  Sir,  and  you  sliall 
hear  from  me  for  this." 

No,  I  won't  ;  as  soon  as  you  leave  this  house, 
you  will  make  the  best  of  your  way  out  of  Kew- 
York ;  you  are  too  fond  of  yourself  to  run  the  risk  of 
being  sent  to  the  Tombs.  Tliat's  all,  Sir  ;  you  can 
go  now,  if  you  wish.  No,  George,  no  violence,"  I 
said,  seeing  George  looking  at  mo  imploringly,  as  if 
asking  permission  to  give  him  a  little  taste  of  his 
quality  ;  and  true  to  his  promise,  the  young  sailor 
restrained  himself. 

Mr.  Barton  walked  leisurely  up  to  Mr.  Evarts, 
and  with  a  look  which  he  meant  for  contempt,  said. 
You  old  fool ;  ten  days  more  and  I  would  have  had 
you  fast — you  have  had  a  narrow  escape,  thanks  to 
that  puppy  there,"  meaning  me. 

"And  you  will  have  to  thank  that  puppy  for  a 
lucky  escape  yourself,  unless  you  keep  a  more  civil 
tongue,  for  George  there  looks  very  anxious." 

Without  deigning  any  reply,  he  was  about  leaving 
the  room,  without  even  saying  farewell  to  his  partners 
in  iniquity,  when  Mattie  sprang  forward,  and  seizing 
his  arm,  exclaimed,  ''  Oh,  Kobert,  surely  you  don't 
mean  to  leave  us  now  ?" 

"  You  may  all  go  to  the  together  for  all  I 

care.    You  have  brought  all  this  on  yourselves,  and 


Home  Again. 


229 


you  may  get  out  of  it  the  best  way  you  can  f  and 
shaking  her  off,  he  left  the  room,  followed  with  long- 
ing eyes  by  George,  but  unnoticed  by  either  of  my 
party. 


CHAPTER  XXI. 

DRA-VnXG  TO  A  CLOSE. 

"Now,  Mrs.  Horton,  I  presume  I  need  not  point 
out  the  only  course  left  for  you  to  pursue,"  said  Mr. 
Evarts,  turning  to  the  cowed  and  amazed  woman, 
who  remained  still  seated  on  the  sofa. 

"  My  name,  Sir,  is  Evarts — Sarah  Evarts.  The 
law  has  given  me  a  title  to  that  name,  and  to  my 
rights  as  your  wife,  and  the  law  alone  shall  compel 
me  to  yield  them,"  she  said,  recovering  some  of  her 
self-possession. 

"As  you  please,  Madam — take  what  course  you 
please  in  regard  to  that.  But  in  one  thing  I  must 
have  my  way,  and  that  immediately.  This  is  my 
house — this  is  my  daughter  ;  I  need  not  say,  both 
of  you  cannot  remain  under  the  same  roof,  and  I 
choose  that  my  daughter  shall.  So  far  as  regards 
any  rights  you  may  claim  as  my  reputed  wife,  perhaps 
you  will  do  well  to  thmk  before  you  act ;  for  my  part 


D  R  A  w  I  N  Cx  TO  A  Close.  231 

I  am  quite  willing  to  spare  you,  and  would  gladly 
spare  myself  the  deep  mortification  which  an  exposure 
of  your  wickedness  and  my  folly  must  entail.  Do 
therefore  as  you  choose,  but  remember  that  I  am  fully 
prepared  to  substantiate  every  thing  I  have  said." 

"  Xow,  Madam,"  he  continued,  deliberately  pulhng 
out  his  watch,  "  it  is  nearly  eleven  o'clock.  By  four 
o'clock  this  house  must  be  rid  of  your  presence,  and 
that  of  your  daughter,  or  I  shall  invoke  the  aid  of 
the  law  to  compel  it." 

"  Every  article  belonging  to  you,  take  with  you, 
and  do  not  leave  any  thing  which  can  remind  me  of 
your  baseness  and  my  weakness.  Such  as  you  cannot 
take  to-day  shall  be  sent  to-morrow,  to  any  address 
you  may  direct." 

This  was  spoken  in  such  a  calm,  imperturbable  tone, 
as  left  no  room  for  hope  that  he  would  relent,  and 
now  Mrs.  Evarts  for  the  first  time  fully  realized  that 
her  day  of  power  had  passed  indeed. 

For  an  instant  she  stood  glaring  at  him,  with  fury 
in  her  eyes,  and  then  unable  longer  to  restrain  or  keep 
down  the  terrible  passion  raging  within  her,  she  com- 
menced a  tirade  of  the  lowest  and  most  vulgar  abuse 
I  ever  heard  from  any  human  hps. 

It  was  so  low,  so  vile,  so  infamous  in  its  character, 


232 


The   Second  Marriage 


the  womanhood  of  Cora,  who  had  throughout  main- 
tained a  silence  broken  only  on  her  part  by  her  sobs, 
would  not  permit  her  to  listen,  and  she  left  the 
rj^m. 

Mr.Evarts  uttered  not  one  word;  he  made  no  effort 
to  stop  her.  He  did  not  seem  discomposed  or  even 
astonished,  but  stood  calmly,  coldly  listening,  and 
when  she  had  concluded,  and  thrown  herself  upon 
the  sofa  in  an  agony  of  bitter  tears  of  rage  and  dis- 
appointment, he  said,  quite  coolly, 

"  There  is  one  thing  I  had  forgotten.  When  it  was 
my  misfortune  to  marry  you,  I  settled  twenty  thou- 
sand dollars  upon  you.  The  marriage  being  illegal, 
that  settlement  fails,  but  I  will  not  see  you  suffer,  vile 
as  you  are,  and  much  as  you  have  deserved  it ;  but, 
it  will  be  on  the  sole  condition  that  you  instantly  leave 
this  city,  and  that  you  never  dare  to  mention  my 
name  in  connectiQn  with  your  own.  Do  you  accept 
those  terms?" 

Mrs.  Evarts  caught  a  ray  of  hope  at  these  words, 
and  drying  her  tears,  hastily  said — 

"  Heaven  knows,  sir,  it  was  none  of  my  desire  to 
become  your  wife,  or  to  be  honored,"  .she  sneered, 
"  by  bearing  your  name." 

"  Then,  I  suppose,  we  may  consider  that  settled  ?" 


Drawing  to  a  Close. 


233 


"  For  the  present — yes,  sir.  Come,  Martha,"  she 
said,  turning  to  the  astounded  girl,  "your  precious 
father  has  might  on  his  side  now,  but  he  will  regret 
it  and  repent  this  to  the  latest  hour  of  his  life.  And 
as  for  that  paragon  of  purity  and  innocence,  I  shall 
take  good  care,  sir,  that  if  you  are  determined  not  to 
believe  what  I  know  to  be  true  of  her,  the  world 
shall,"  and  she  sailed  towards  the  door  with  an  air  of 
a  tragedy  queen. 

As  she  uttered  this  threat,  Mr.  Evarts  actually 
stood  aghast,  for  he  well  knew  how  reckless  and  vin- 
dictive was  the  woman  with  whom  he  had  to  deal, 
and  she,  foreseeing  the  effect  which  her  words  had  on 
him,  paused,  and  said — 

"  I  will  make  the  city  ring  with  her  shame,  sir  ;  I 
will  make  her  repent  to  the  last  hour  of  her  life,  that 
she  ever  crossed  my  path,  and  then  w^e  will  see  who 
will  triumph,"  and  she  gazed  at  him  with  a  look  of 
malignant  pleasure,  for  she  knew  how  to  wound  him 
in  the  most  tender  spot. 

"  Madam — devil !"  said  Mr.  Evarts,  with  vehe- 
mence, advancing  towards  her,  if  I  ever  hea'r  that 
my  daughter's  name  is  polluted  by  your  lips  or  tliose 
of  your  well-matched  child,  the  heaviest  vengeance 
the  law  can  inflict  shall  be  visited  on  you.    Remem-  - 


234       The  Second  Marriage 

ber,  Madam,  it  is  only  to  my  mercy  you  owe  your 
present  liberty  ;  if  I  wore  to  mete  out  justice  to  you, 
you  would  share  your  precious  husband's  fate,  and 
become  the  inmate  of  a  prison.  Beware  ;  you  know 
me  well  enough  to  feel  that  I  am  in  earnest.  These 
are  my  last  words  to  you,  aud  remember  them." 

"  Where  is  Cora  ?"  he  said,  turning  to  me,  and 
going  into  the  hall,  I  found  her  there  sitting  on  a 
chair,  weeping  bitterly. 

Leading  her  up  to  her  father,  he  embraced  her 
with  all  the  warmth  of  his  earliest  love,  and  taking 
both  her  hands,  he  said,  "  my  child,  this  is  your 
home,  your  house — and  thank  God,  I  am  spared  to 
say  that  I  am  again  your  father.  May  God  grant 
you  all  the  happiness  you  deserve,  and  all  a  father's 
love  would  cheerfully  bestow  upon  you." 

Mrs.  Evarts  did  not  venture  another  word,  but  left 
the  room,  followed  by  her  weeping  and  subdued 
daughter,  and  I  saw  no  more  of  them. 

"  Doctor,"  said  Mr.  Evarts,  turning  to  me,  "there 
is  no  use  in  my  trying  to  thank  you  ;  I  have  not 
words  to  do  it.    You  know  my  feelings.    And  you, 

Dr.  D  ,  I  thank  too  from  my  heart.    Our  good 

friend  here  has  told  me  of  the  kindly  aid  you  have 
rendered,  and  I  shall  not  forget  it.    You  will  both 


Drawing  to  a  Close.  235 

dine  with  us  to-day  ?  By  the  way,  where  is  that 
rascal,  Clarence?" 

"  Oh,  he  is  safe,"  I  said  ;  "  I  saw  him  with  Dinah 
as  I  went  into  the  hall.  He  is  happy  enough,  now  ; 
he  is  not  old  enough  to  share  our  present  happiness  ; 
leave  him  where  he  is." 

That  however  did  not  suit,  and  Master  Claren'ce 
must  be  brought  up,  and  after  a  tremendous  hugging 
from  his  mother  and  Mr.  Evarts,  was  permitted  to 
escape,  and  find  his  own  pleasure  in  tumbling  about 
the  room. 

A  few  minutes,  it  seemed  to  us,  were  passed  in 
commenting  upon  the  past  occurrences,  though  we 
had  really  been  conversing  more  than  an  hour,  when 
the  parlor  door  was  opened,  and  Mrs.  Evarts, 
dressed  and  hatted,  entered,  followed  by  Martha. 

"Day — day,  good  folks,"  she  said  with  the  most 
provoking  impudence,  "  you  shall  hear  from  us  soon. 
Mattie,  dear,  go  and  kiss  your  Pa  good-bye  ;  it  may 
be  a  long  time  before  you  meet  again,"  but  Mattie 
wisely  shrunk  from  the  allotted  task.  "  There  is  my 
address,"  she  said,  throwing  her  card  on  the  floor. 
"  You  can  send  my  things  as  soon  as  you  choose. 
Have  we  your  permission  to  go  now,  Sir  ?" 

Mr.  Evarts  looked  at  me  with  a  smile  of  such  deep 


236        The  Second  Marriage. 


meaning*,  I  readily  interpreted  it,  and  stepping  forward, 
I  took  np  her  card,  and  said,  "Mr.  Evarts  authorizes 
me  to  say  that  your  things  shall  be  sent  immediately." 

"  Oh,  yes — he  authorizes  you  ;  I  dare  say  you  will 
have  a  good  deal  of  authority  here,  yet  ;  I  shouldn't 
wonder  if  you  had  found  Madam  Innocence  there  as 
kind  as  Mr.  Barton  did,"  and  witTi  a  scornful  laugh, 
she  left  the  room,  just  escaping  an  explosion  from  her 
insulted  and  injured  husband. 


CONCLUSION. 


I  SUPPOSE  the  reader  would  like  to  know  wliat 
became  of  the  parties  with  whom  he  has  become  ac- 
quainted m  the  precedmg  chapters,  and  I  shall  tell 
that  in  the  exact  words  of  the  Doctor. 

"  As  for  Helen  Lee,  for  she  absolutely  refused  to 
be  called  Barton,  I  wrote  to  her  parents  in  Otsego 
county,  detailmg  the  cu'cumstances  with  which  I  had 
become  acquainted. 

"  A  few  days  brought  a  letter,  full  of  love  and 
forgiveness,  begging  her  to  come  back  and  bless  their 
old  age  with  her  presence.  This  was  an  appeal  she 
could  not  resist,  and  she  is  there  now,  for  all  I  know 
to  the  contrary. 

"Julia  Seaton  married  a  young  carpenter,  who 
was  set  up  in  business  by  Mr.  Evarts,  and  he  is  now 
doing  a  thriving  business. 

"  George  was  well  cared  for  by  Mr.  Evarts,  and 
he  now  commands  a  brig  trading  hence  to  Havana." 

"  But  Mrs.  Marvin  ?"  I  inquired. 

"Oh,  yc>  ;  I  nearly  forgot  her  :  I  married  her 


238       The    Second  Marriage. 

myself.  You  see,  Iier  husband  was  lost  in  a  gale  of 
wind  off  Ca[)€  Horn,  and  sooner  than  allow  lier  to 
end  her  days  alone,  I  made  her  my  wife  ;  and  she 
rather  thinks  her  second  marriage  is  likely  to  turn 
out  better  than  her  father's.  At  all  events,  he 
thinks  so,  and  I  know  so." 


at 


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